Rewrite of Harry Potter and the Mystery of the Blue Box
by JSmith25
Summary: When the Doctor lands at Hogwarts, he persuades Dumbledore to start a new subject: Science. How will the trio react to their eccentric Science Professor? Was the object that crashed in the Black Lake really a meteorite? With mysteries abound, it is up to the Doctor to save Hogwarts from an extraterrestrial attack, as well as the might of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
1. Prologue

**Harry Potter and the Mystery of the Blue Box – Rewrite**

**Prologue**

20 years ago, the Invasion Fleet had received a signal from a scout ship – a ship thought long lost. It had crashed on Sol 3, the third planet of the Sol system, and after quite a few centuries, managed to re-establish contact with the Fleet. The scout ship reported that the planet was suitable for invasion, but before further communication could be made, the signal mysteriously ceased. Assuming hostile action, the Fleet had dispatched a reconnaissance ship to the Sol system, in order to survey the small planet and, if possible, discover what had happened to the scout ship, and evaluate whether the planet was still worth invading.

After reaching the Sol system, the ship immediately set course for Sol 3. Unfortunately, a rogue asteroid avoided detection by the ship's scanner, and a collision occurred, with the ship being critically damaged. Despite spiralling out of control, the automatic navigational circuits remained operational, and ensured that the ship maintained a rough, jerky flight path to the small, blue planet.

Hours later, the ship hit the outer atmosphere of the planet. By now, the ship's rough flight had rendered the crew unconscious, and as such, they could not enter the descent pattern. As the ship continued through the upper atmosphere, the intense friction heated the ship's hull, but luckily, the heat shields were still operational, and the extremity of the atmospheric entry didn't cause the ship to break up. To the inhabitants of the planet, the ship appeared to be a meteorite, albeit a particularly large one. Still, the inhabitants were untroubled, and resumed their activities.

It didn't take long for impact to occur...

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat brooding at his desk, listening to the quiet whirring of the silver instruments that cluttered up his office, and the snoring of the portraits that lined the walls of his office. It had been a long and busy day, and he was grateful for the opportunity to relax and reflect on the day's events. The most troubling thing on his mind was his inability to find a candidate for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Not that he could blame anyone after what had happened to every teacher who had held the post for the last 30 years...

A loud boom shook Dumbledore out of his thoughts, while Fawkes the phoenix flapped his wings in discomfort.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" yawned Armando Dippet's portrait as the paintings began to wake up. Before Dumbledore could answer, though, the whole room began to shake violently, causing several silver instruments to fall of their platforms and shatter on the carpeted floor below. Then, as abruptly as the disturbance began, it stopped. Frowning, Dumbledore took out his wand and repaired his instruments before looking out the window.

"That was quite a ruckus wasn't it, headmaster?" commented Phineas Nigellus, but the remark was ignored.

A bright light was blazing on the right, and it seemed to be growing larger. Albus watched, fascinated, as the light drew ever closer, and ever brighter. Finally, the intensity of the light became too much for Albus, and he raised a hand to block it out, but only fleetingly, as the light almost immediately faded, before and almighty crash shook the room a split second after. Albus tried unsuccessfully to keep his balance before he fell over, hitting his head on a table on the way down. Everything went black.

* * *

"Albus, Albus, are you alright?" asked Professor McGonagall, as she shook him awake.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, standing up and dusting himself off.

"Whatever do you think caused that earthquake?" McGonagall said, as she looked around at the sight of Dumbledore's trashed office.

"I don't know," Dumbledore answered as he made his way to the door. "But I think it's time to find out."

* * *

Dumbledore and the other teachers surveyed the bubbling, steaming surface of the Black Lake.

"I think we can safely say that whatever caused the earthquake crashed in the lake, headmaster," said Severus Snape.

"So it would seem, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "In fact, I daresay that the object crashing into the lake _was_ the cause of earthquake."

"In that case, then," interjected McGonagall. "What was the object?"

All the teachers glanced at one another.

"I'm afraid that I don't know, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "But I'm sure our friends in the lake will be delighted to help us with our enquiries."

McGonagall and the other teachers watched as he made his way over to the edge of the lake, and started calling to the merpeople in their own tongue, Mermish. After conversing with one of their number for some time, he made his way back to the group.

"The merpeople say that the object appears to be a large, orange coloured rock," said Dumbledore, slightly amused.

Professor Sinistra chuckled. "In that case, we got ourselves all worried about a meteorite!"

"So it would seem," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "In that case, I would suggest that we all head back inside, clean up, and retire for the night. There's no use hanging around here."

The other teachers all murmured their agreement, and headed back up to the castle together, dismissing the object in the lake from their minds.

It was a decision they would come to regret, as several days later, the reconnaissance ship's main computer bleeped into life. The crash had triggered an automatic response that placed the crew into 'amber sleep'- suspended animation. Unfortunately, the crash had also caused the power stacks to leak, thus leaving the ship with only a limited amount of auxiliary power. However, the main computer had detected a strange radiation emanating from a nearby castle and the surrounding landscape. Slowly, the computer began adapting its organic components so that it could use the radiation to repair the ship, and revive the alien crew...

* * *

**Author Note: And I'm back! I know it's been over a year since the original version of this story finished, and that I promised a sequel soon but no fear! The sequel is currently being written, and I'm really happy with it so far. I can't see it being as long as this one, but it will really rock the Doctor's world.**

**The Rewrite of Harry Potter and the Mystery of the Blue Box is exactly that - a rewrite. So many things have been changed, added or removed that I consider it a completely different story. That being said, the overall plot is the same, but I've added things that set up the sequel, plus a few more details from Series 7. Also, this rewrite is around 45k words total - compared to the 40k of the original. Yes, a lot has been added!**

**I plan on updating this story roughly every week, as it gives me time to continue writing the sequel. However, if I get ahead of schedule for the sequel, I'll update more frequently. **

**Hope you enjoy the rewrite!**

**JSmith25**


	2. Arrival

**Chapter 1 – Arrival**

It was a week after the meteor incident, and once again, Albus Dumbledore sat brooding behind his desk, listening to the whirring of his silver instruments. This time, however, Dumbledore was thinking about the new candidate for Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. No, he hadn't managed to find a person who would take up the job, but the alternative was a hundred times worse. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, had passed a law allowing the Ministry to select a suitable candidate for a teaching post, if the headmaster was unable to find one. The Minister had subsequently appointed his Personal Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, to the position.

Dumbledore grimaced inwardly. He knew that the appointment of Umbridge was simply an excuse to have a spy in the castle, and that the Minister didn't care whether or not his students got a good education. He picked up a leaflet advertising the job, looked at it angrily for a second, before placing back on the desk. Fawkes gave a soft crow, and Dumbledore went over to his perch and gave him a little scratch under the chin. A light breeze swept through the office, causing several pieces of paper to flutter off his desk and onto the ground. Sighing, Dumbledore turned to close the door, but it was shut, as was the window. Dumbledore frowned. Where had the breeze come from?

Dismissing it as one of Hogwarts' many secrets, he started walking up the stairs to his bedroom, when he heard a faint sound. Dumbledore stopped and frowned again. The noise was becoming clearer and louder, and seemed to be coming from the corner of the room, just to the right of the door. Dumbledore blinked in surprise. When he had looked at the spot a moment ago, it was empty, but now a small, pulsing light hung in mid air. Curiosity got the better of him, and he went down the stairs to get a closer look. By now, the noise was discernible – it was a wheezing, groaning sound. To Dumbledore's shock, the sound seemed to correspond to the pulses of the light, and to his further surprise, a shape seemed to be materialising out of thin air! Taking out his wand and hurriedly retreating a few steps, he stared in shock and awe as with a final thud, a blue box solidified in his office.

Moving cautiously, Dumbledore approached the box. It appeared to be made out of wood, yet it was emitting a humming sound. He reached out a hand to touch it, but quickly withdrew; the box was vibrating. Suddenly, doors to the box flew open, and a young man dressed wearing a tweed jacket and a bow tie stepped out, beaming at his surroundings.

"London, two thousand, one hundred and ninety-one," the man said confidently, looking around. "Damn, I've done it again,"he muttered, his smile faltering, realising he hadn't reached his destination. However, his eyes lit up once more when he noticed Dumbledore.

"Kazran Sardick, how good it is to see you again!" he cried, rushing forward to shake Dumbledore's hand. "How's the Cloud Belt going? And the flying shark? I'd intended to visit my granddaughter, but what the hell!"

The man had obviously confused Dumbledore with someone else.

"Is this your office?" the man continued, looking around. "I haven't had an office since I was elected President of the Ti -" The man coughed, before noticing Dumbledore's raised wand. "What's that you're pointing at me? And what's with the beard? You're not trying to copy your dad's appearance, are you?"

"Who're you?" Dumbledore eyed the man with suspicion. "And how did you get your box in here? I take it that it's some kind of machine?"

"Well, yes," said the man. "After all the times you've been in it, I would've thought that was obvious!"

Dumbledore ignored the last remark. "If it is a machine, then how is it working? No muggle technology works near Hogwarts," he said, more to himself than to the man.

"Sorry – muggle?"

"Non-magic folk."

"Magic?"

Dumbledore stared. "You don't know what magic is? Then how'd you break all of the, err, protection around this castle?"

The man frowned. "Okay, not Kazran," he said, before answering Dumbledore's question. "The TARDIS – that's what the box's called – doesn't care much for protections," he explained. "She just lands where she wants to."

Dumbledore lowered his wand. The man didn't seem much like a threat, and in any case, he, Dumbledore, had the wand, and therefore the upper hand, if the man did decide to turn hostile.

"...was trying to visit my granddaughter, but ended up here. Where exactly am I; what's the date?" the man said, looking at Dumbledore expectantly.

"You're in Hogwarts castle, in my office."

"And the date?"

"Friday, August twenty-five, nineteen ninety-five," answered Dumbledore, raising a sceptical eyebrow. How could anyone forget the date, let alone the year?

The man seemed satisfied. "Good year, nothing too bad happens," he said. "And you are?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I might ask you the same question, especially as you err, appeared in the room without my permission."

"I did, didn't I?" the man mused, before grinning. "My name's the Doctor," he said, moving forward to give Dumbledore an air kiss on both cheeks.

"Doctor? That's a muggle word," replied Dumbledore. "So I repeat my earlier question: if you are a muggle, how did you get your box in here?"

The man was now looked curiously around the room. "Oh, quite by accident. Imagine a big tub of water, then think of what happens when an object is placed in the tub. The water gets displaced, doesn't? Well same principle, where the water is the air, and the object placed in it is my box."

"I see," lied Dumbledore. The analogy didn't make any sense whatsoever.

"Good, because it's nothing like that," muttered the man, inspecting one of Dumbledore's silver instruments.

Dumbledore frowned. The man seemed to have no intention of telling him how he got through Hogwarts' protective enchantments; why else would he say such nonsense? Sighing, he tried a different method of getting the man to talk.

"Why are you here, err, Doctor?" he asked.

The man looked up, flustered. "Ah, good question! I'm here because...because." His eyes flickered around the room before landing on the pamphlet advertising the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "I'm here for the teaching job!" the man finally proclaimed.

Dumbledore almost laughed. "Sorry, Doctor, but the job has already been taken, but I hardly think a person such as yourself would be capable of teaching such as subject."

"Oh," the man said, looking hassled, "Is there anything else I can teach? Maths or physics? Any of the sciences? I'm quite good at them..."

Dumbledore frowned once more. "I don't think you understand; Hogwarts is a school of magic, not of irrelevant muggle subjects."

"Irrelevant?" the man said indignantly. "Science isn't irrelevant at all, in fact, it's the most important subject of them all. Science is the study of the universe, how and why everything behaves in certain ways, the classification of organisms, the search for minerals under the earth, the discovery of distant planets! How can anyone call that irrelevant?"

Dumbledore considered. Would it be prudent to let the students learn more about the physical world? It would certainly increase their knowledge about some aspects of the muggle word, and he had to admit, that was a good thing. Weighing up all the options, Dumbledore made an executive decision.

"Very well," he coughed, and the man looked up hopefully. "Doctor, I have decided to employ you as the Professor of the new subject, Science. I trust you can devise a curriculum for seven groups of students before they arrive in a week's time?"

The Doctor nodded.

"Excellent. I'll show you to your classroom tomorrow morning, but for now, it is time to rest. Would you like me to provide temporary sleeping arrangements? The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade has good beds, apparently."

"No, that won't be necessary," the man said quickly. "I'll just sleep in here." He motioned towards the box. "If that's alright, Mister err?" he added hastily.

"Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Incidentally, Doctor who?"

The man grinned. "Smith. Doctor John Smith."

"Goodnight, John."

But John had already disappeared inside the box again.

Not worried about how John intended on sleeping in a box (he had probably put an undetectable extension charm on it), Dumbledore shook his head and slowly made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He was very much aware that the Ministry wouldn't approve of his decision, but he felt he didn't really care what the Ministry thought, particularly not in the current circumstances. At least he might get a chance to find out how 'the Doctor' had managed to get into Hogwarts.

* * *

Inside the box, the Doctor wasn't displaying any sign of fatigue whatsoever; he was checking some instruments on the TARDIS console, namely the radiation indicator. The TARDIS was actually a time machine, capable of travelling anywhere throughout time and space, and was infinitely bigger on the inside than the out, allowing the Doctor to practically live inside. Despite his youthful appearance, the Doctor was really much, much older; he had just celebrated his 1, 313th birthday.

"Radiation: OFF THE SCALE!" the Doctor read in alarm, before descending into a mad panic, trying desperately to find the decontamination tablets left over from his first encounter with the daleks. By the time he found them, however, he had calmed down sufficiently to notice that the radiation indicator display had expanded.

'_Radiation type: Upsilon. Upsilon radiation consists of charged particles existing in a magical field. Upsilon Particles were first discovered by humans in 103,459 AD, when the general population learned that a small portion of humans had developed the ability to harness the magical field and focus the particles through a 'wand'. Upsilon Particles are known simply as 'magic' by the general population_

The Doctor looked up from the display, excitement evident in his eyes. "So that's why Kazran's look-a-like was going on about magic! He's a wizard, which means I'm going to be teaching young wizards and witches!" He rambled on for a bit more before realising that, if he was going to able to play the part of a wizard effectively, he would need to be able to perform magic. One quick infusion of his sonic screwdriver with upsilon particles from the atmosphere outside the TARDIS, and he was able to perform 'magic', although he noticed the screwdriver seemed to play up when trying to cast spells. He'd have to rectify that fault soon. The next several hours were spent researching the history of magic, and of wizards and witches. It turned out the magic population was quite primitive in terms of technology, having never really progressed out of the Middle Ages in that respect. Subsequently, the Doctor discovered that the magical population believed several ludicrous explanations for natural phenomena. Deciding that he had done enough research for the night, he exited the TARDIS, ready to settle into his new (temporary) home.

* * *

**Author Note: Due to pleasing progress with the sequel, I now intend to update every four days, hence why this chapter is up today instead of Wednesday. The sequel currently consists of five and a bit chapters (including a prologue of sorts), with 12.5k words. I estimate that it's just over 50% completed, so I should have it done in about two weeks.**

**The explanation for magic is different than the one given in the original story, though both explanations do require quite a bit of suspension of disbelief!**


	3. Settling In

**Chapter 2 – Settling In**

The sun's rays were just shining above the horizon, and were causing the mountains in the distance to glow with golden light, when the Doctor left the TARDIS. He gazed out at the beautiful scenery for a few minutes before glancing around the room, taking in more detail that he had done the previous night. He noticed the many portraits that lined the walls of the room. They seemed to be – no, that was impossible! Paintings didn't move! Yet here was evidence to the contrary – the paintings were nodding up and down in rhythm to their snores. The Doctor was amazed; he'd never seen anything like them before. Were they holograms? He peered closer to check. No, it was real paint. Amazing!

He soon got bored of watching people in paintings snore, though, and turned his attention to Fawkes.

"Hello, bird," he said, stroking the bird's wing. Fawkes opened an eye and glared reproachfully at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you!" the Doctor said hastily, and backed off. A noise upstairs alerted him to the fact that Dumbledore was now awake. Sure enough, the Headmaster descended the spiral staircase a few minutes later.

"Ah, John, I hope you had a good sleep?" said Dumbledore. Not waiting for a reply, he continued. "Please follow me down to the Great Hall for breakfast; I'll introduce you to the other teachers." Dumbledore opened the door for the Doctor, who walked through it. He couldn't wait to meet his fellow staff members!

* * *

Most of the other staff members were already eating breakfast by the time Dumbledore and the Doctor arrived in the Great Hall. Dumbledore stopped walking, giving the Doctor a chance to take in the sight.

"This, John, is the Great Hall," said Dumbledore, gesturing around the room. "The staff and students have meals here, and the occasional study session is conducted here as well."

"Sorry?" the Doctor asked, not catching what Dumbledore said; he'd been too busy admiring the enchanted ceiling.

Dumbledore noticed the direction of his gaze and smiled. "Ah yes, the ceiling. It's bewitched to mimic the sky outside."

"I see," said the Doctor, not seeing at all.

"Seeing as you're a muggle, John, where were you educated?"

"I was uh, educated in Australia," the Doctor replied, quickly improvising. "Born in England, moved to Australia when I was a hundred and fifty, went to school at the um, Scientific Institute of Brisbane. I graduated, travelled the world for a bit, then moved back here."

"I see," lied Dumbledore. Moved to Australia when he was 150, what rubbish! John looked no older than 30! Still, plenty of time to find out his secrets later.

"I see," Dumbledore repeated. "In that case, let me introduce you to the staff."

The Doctor continued to stare around the Hall with an expression of delight on his face as he and Dumbledore moved towards the table at the back of the hall.

"This place is amazing!" he told Dumbledore. "Particularly how you've made the candles hover. You've used a levitation charm surely, but to keep the effect constant..." he trailed off in awe. It wasn't every day that he found something new to marvel at!

"Good morning, Albus," greeted a severe looking woman from the table. "May I ask who your friend is?"

"This is John Smith, Minerva, our new science teacher. John, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor," Dumbledore said, introducing the two people to each other.

The Doctor waved cheerily to McGonagall.

"Science, you say, Headmaster?" asked a hook-nosed teacher with black, greasy hair. "How exactly is that possible, considering that it is a," he glared at the Doctor, "muggle subject. Surely you haven't employed a muggle in a magical school?"

"He's not a muggle, Severus," Dumbledore replied coldly. "John here was educated at the Magical Scientific Institute of Brisbane. Apparently, the magical population in Australia is more...knowledgeable about such things."

The Doctor said nothing about Dumbledore's lie, but did wonder why he had done it. Clearly muggles, normal people, were frowned upon in the magical society.

Dumbledore started the introductions. "Severus Snape is our Potions Master, John." He indicated to the black haired man.

"Oh, potions, I love potions!" the Doctor said excitedly. "Have you found the one that cures blood clots yet? Not that I have any, but you never know when they're needed..." He trailed off, seeing the confused looks the teachers were giving him.

Dumbledore coughed and continued the introductions. "Filius Flitwick, the Charms professor; Pomona Sprout, who teaches Herbology. The woman on the far left is Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor. Professors Grubbly-Plank, Umbridge and Vector aren't here yet; they teach Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Arithmancy respectively. Sybill Trelawney is in charge of Divination, but you won't see her often, she stays up in her tower most of the time. But enough introductions, it's time to eat!" he finished, and he and the Doctor took their places at the table.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the Doctor was having an argument with Professor Sinistra about Proxima Centauri, the closest star to Earth.

"I tell you, Proxima is part of a ternary star system along with Alpha Centauri A and B!" the Doctor said exasperatedly for the third time.

"There is no evidence for that theory whatsoever!" replied Professor Sinistra heatedly. "Did you study the subject for three years? Having you been teaching it for the last thirty?"

At this, the Doctor stopped. "Well, no," he admitted. "But," he added, "I studied Interstellar Astronomy at the Academy, have visited the system numerous times, and am even a member of the Alpha Centauri table tennis club!"

Professor Sinistra just shook her head. "Nutter," she muttered, going back to her porridge.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the staff table, Dumbledore was having a whispered conversation with Professors McGonagall and Snape.

"Headmaster, I implore you to see reason! Hogwarts is a school of magic; we cannot allow muggle subjects to infiltrate!" Snape whispered furiously.

Dumbledore finished a goblet of orange juice before replying. "You are right, Severus, Hogwarts is a school of magic. However, what harm will it do to the students to learn about things other than the magical world? The world is a big place, keeping the next generation's knowledge limited to magic will result in a very narrow minded and limited group of young people. Look at how our society is these days!"

McGonagall flared her nostrils. "I have no objection to your decision Albus," she said, "but I am worried about how the Ministry will react. You know they're already cross with you -"

"Hogwarts is a school, Minerva, not an outpost of the Ministry. Quite frankly, I don't care what the Ministry thinks, not after their latest interference."

"Is it wise, though?" Snape asked, lip curling. "To go against the Ministry, when one wrong move will result in a one-way ticket to Azkaban on some trumped-up charge?"

Dumbledore paused, thinking. "No, it isn't wise," he finally agreed. "But...there are other things of importance to discuss, things that I will share with you both tonight at eight o'clock in my office."

* * *

Once breakfast was finished, Dumbledore called the Doctor over him.

"Right, John, let's show you to your classroom," Dumbledore said, walking out of the Great Hall. He stopped when they reached the top of the marble staircase. "Now, your classroom is on the first floor. To get there, go up one flight of stairs, go through the door on your left, then the classroom is the fifth door on the right. I trust you'll be able to get there yourself?"

The Doctor nodded. "Won't be a problem, but I'd like to go back up to your office to collect my box first, if you don't mind."

"Of course. Would you like me to levitate it down for you?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I'll manage fine on my own."

Dumbledore frowned. How would he get the box down to the first floor all on his own? A hover charm would be very impractical and awkward, considering the box's size.

"Oh," said the Doctor. "Quick question: are the staircases sentient?"

"No..." Dumbledore shook his head. Sentient indeed!

"Really?" said the Doctor, disappointed. "That would've been cool. Sentient staircases are cool."

After a few minutes, they finally reached Dumbledore's office; the Doctor promptly entered the TARDIS, set the co-ordinates and dematerialised, smirking as he imagined Dumbledore's look of astonishment.

"Now then," he said brightly, running down the TARDIS' stairs to the door. "Let's have a look at this classroom!"

He dashed outside.

"Not bad," he said, looking around. He was facing ten rows of desks, with nine desks in each row, grouped in threes. A door was located at the back left of the classroom, so that when the students entered, they would get a magnificent view of the lake and surrounding mountains. The rest of the left wall was taken up by a multitude of glass cabinets and display cases, with the occasional light dotted here and there, complementing the natural illumination provided by the sun shining through the windows on the right. A bigger desk, presumably the teacher's (his, as the Doctor reminded himself) was located just to the right of the TARDIS, while a blackboard dominated the back wall. A staircase that led to an upper floor was to the left of the TARDIS.

"I think it'll do very nicely," the Doctor grinned, and he ran back into the TARDIS to collect some science related paraphernalia that could decorate the classroom. Once he had done so, he found a ladder and exited the TARDIS, ready to decorate the room. He was going to love this job!

* * *

At precisely eight o'clock that evening, Dumbledore received a knock on his office door.

"Come in," he said softly.

McGonagall and Snape entered.

"You said you had something to tell us, Headmaster?" Snape asked smoothly.

"Yes, please sit down," Dumbledore replied, gesturing to two seats in front of the desk. McGonagall and Snape obeyed.

"Before I begin, I will ask you both to remain quiet until I finish my tale; you may ask questions afterwards. Now, it was late yesterday night..." Dumbledore then proceeded to inform both professors as to what occurred last night.

When the tale ended, Snape was furious.

"Headmaster, you cannot employ someone who can just waltz into Hogwarts, no matter how innocent they seem!" Snape snarled, jumping to his feet. "The fact that he managed to bring a _box_ with him suggests that he knows magic far beyond any of us. Did it ever occur to you that he may be in league with the Dark Lord?"

"It did occur to me, yes," Dumbledore answered calmly. "But as I said in my tale, I do not believe that he is. I know that am a very good judge of character, Severus, need I remind you of that?"

Snape bit his lip but said nothing.

"Albus, I too find your decision foolish. I don't disagree with your employment of the man, rather the fact that you did so without consulting any of us, let alone the Ministry!" McGonagall said, looking rather stern.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, perhaps you are right, Minerva, I may have been too hasty in my decision. However, what is done is done, and the most we can do now is to get to know John further, and to watch him throughout the year. Maybe we will pick up a clue or two as to how he managed to get in here..."

The two teachers agreed, and after a muttered goodbye, left the room, leaving Dumbledore to brood over the day's events.

* * *

**Author Note: Completely new chapter written just for the rewrite. As you've probably gathered, it shows how some of the teachers reacted to Dumbledore's rather sudden appointment of both a new subject and teacher, in other words, adding more realism. Don't despair, however, as Harry and co. will make their debut appearance in the next chapter. Oh, and technically, Proxima Centauri isn't confirmed to be in the same star system as Alpha Centauri A & B, but there is a very high likelihood that it is, so I went out on a limb and said it was.  
**

**Replies to Reviews:**

**shtoops: I don't actually read the expanded universe novels, so that little bit of info came as a surprise to me. Still, good to know that Harry Potter and Doctor Who can sort of reconcile over magic.**

**Insantiyisgood25: Yes, on hindsight, it does seem a bit stupid that no one at Hogwarts really cared about a 'meteorite' crashing in the Lake. That's why the rewrite's here; to correct the mistakes of the original, and to just improve the story in general. In the original, magic was just said to be a form of radiation, with no further explanation given. Here, I've basically added another type of field, in addition to the three known ones (gravitational, magnetic and electrostatic). The name of the radiation in the original was Demet (completely made up), while here it's Upsilon. (So named because it's a Greek letter, which is what the other, real, radiation types are named after). Yes, I hate it when fics are abandoned, especially if they're good. Don't worry, this one will be supported until it's finished! Also, with regards to your review of One Day I Shall Come Back, thanks for thinking it's perfect, that means a lot! Unfortunately, I don't think so (I rarely do with my own work), and began the process of rewriting it too, a few months ago.**

**TheBleachDoctor: Thanks! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!**


	4. New Teachers

**Chapter 3 – New Teachers**

Harry stepped out onto Hogsmeade station only to be greeted by a series of jeers and catcalls.

"Get lost, Plotter!"

"Help me, help me; I've got Voldy after me!"

"You just wanted all the publicity, Potter!"

"You and Dumbledore are nuts, how long before they pack you both off to St. Mungos?"

"Just ignore them, Harry," Hermione said firmly, pushing Harry into the nearest coach. When she, Harry, Ron and Ginny were all in, she made to close the door, but was stopped by a sneering Malfoy.

"What's the hurry, Granger? Want to have some time with your nutcase friend?" he snickered.

Hermione ignored him, but Ron took the bait.

"Shut up, Malfoy," he said, ears turning red.

"Why should I, Weasel? Thank goodness the whole world's finally realised that the idiot who runs this place should belong in a mental asylum. Oh, and I'd keep away from scarhead over there, who knows, he might be dangerous!"

Fuming, Ron pulled the door shut, and the carriage began to move, leaving the laughing Slytherin behind.

"Don't listen to him, Harry," Hermione said comfortingly. "He's just being himself."

"Yeah, but now everyone's like him," Harry answered miserably. "They all think I'm insane."

"I don't," came a dreamy voice from a corner of the coach. A shaft of light illuminated a girl with long blonde hair looking up from a magazine, which she appeared to be holding upside down. "I think you're just as sane as I am."

Not altogether reassured, Harry stared at the floor for the duration of the ride up to Hogwarts.

* * *

The shouts and mutterings continued as they disembarked from the coaches, much to Harry's annoyance.

"Bloody gits," Ron said angrily after Ginny chased off a sniggering third year. "If they knew what you'd been through..."

He continued muttering obscenities right up until they all sat down at the Gryffindor table; Luna drifted over the Ravenclaws'. Harry plonked himself down next to Ron, looking determinedly at his empty gold plate. Hermione, meanwhile, was scanning the staff table.

"Hagrid's not here!" she exclaimed, turning back to them, eyes wide with shock and worry.

"He can't have left," said Ron, sounding slightly anxious.

"Of course he hasn't," said Harry firmly.

"You don't think he's ... hurt, or anything, do you?" said Hermione uneasily.

"No," answered Harry at once.

"But where is he, then?"

There was a pause, then Harry said very quietly so that he couldn't be overhead, "Maybe he's not back yet. You know – from his mission – the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore."

"Yeah...yeah, that'll be it," said Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bit her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence.

"Who's that?" she asked sharply, pointing to the middle of the staff table.

Harry's eyes finally left his plate and followed Hermione's eyes. They lit first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silver stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Harry thought, like someone's maiden aunt: squat, with a short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet, and he saw, with a shock of recognition, a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.

He gasped. "It's that Umbridge woman!"

"Who?" asked Hermione.

"She was at the hearing, she works for Fudge!"

"Nice cardigan," smirked Ron.

"She works for Fudge!" Hermione repeated, frowning. "What on Earth's she doing here, then?"

"Dunno..."

Hermione frowned and narrowed her eyes, but Ron interrupted her.

"Wonder who he is," he said vaguely, eyes once more glued to the staff table.

"Who _who_ is?" Hermione asked crossly, looking in the same direction as Ron's gaze. She saw a youngish man chatting very animatedly to Professor Flitwick. Unlike the rest of the staff, who were wearing robes, the new teacher was wearing a bow tie with a tweed jacket.

"That's a very muggle look," she noted, "Looks like he teaches at Oxford."

"Do you reckon he's a muggle?" asked Ron curiously.

"No, they wouldn't let them in," replied Hermione, "I wonder what he teaches?"

"Care of Magical Creatures?" suggested Harry.

"Nah, they've got that Grubbly-Plank woman for that," answered Ron.

That was the end of the conversation, as Professor McGonagall arrived with the first years. The sorting passed quite uneventfully, and soon everyone was tucking into the delicious feast. The topic of conversation amongst the Gryffindors was, of course, the new teachers.

"What do you reckon the new bloke teaches?" Neville asked the table in general.

"Bet he's the new muggle studies guy, I mean, look at the way he dresses!" said Seamus.

"Ah, well, yes," said Nearly Headless Nick, drifting over to join the conversation. "_That _one is very interesting indeed."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, intrigued.

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, he simply appeared in the castle about a week ago. I've asked the other ghosts, and none of them even saw him arrive."

"And Dumbledore hired him, just like that?" Dean said, incredulous.

"So it would seem," confirmed Nick. "But the other ghosts and I can't imagine what he'll be teaching; none of the other teachers have left."

"Hmm," Hermione frowned, eyes even narrower than before.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the Forest in the school grounds is out of bounds to all students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door. We have three changes is staffing this year. First of all, we are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

After a smattering of unenthusiastic applause, Dumbledore continued. "Finally, Professor Smith, who will be teaching the new, optional subject of Science."

The man wearing the tweed jacket smiled exuberantly and waved at the silent student body. Only the first years and the teachers clapped, the former having no idea of the impact of the statement, but they quickly stopped when they realised that no one else was following their lead.

Dumbledore coughed awkwardly. "For those of you who don't know, science is the study of the universe, in other words, why the world around us behaves in a certain way. For those of us who come from muggle families, science is not new to you, as I believe it is taught in muggle schools..."

At this, the majority of the students shouted out in protest, those from the Slytherin table crying out the loudest. It took several loud firecrackers exploding from the end of Dumbledore's wand to quieten the din.

"However," Dumbledore continued loudly, "after learning of this subject, I decided that is one of the most important things we can study apart from magic at this school, and all teachers support my decision to include it in Hogwarts' curriculum."

Once glance at the staff table told Harry this was not true; Professors Snape, and Umbridge displayed expressions of fury at these words.

"That's all for the moment, for now your beds await you. Off you chop!"

Harry rose with the other students and slowly made his way up to the common room, not sure if he should be looking forward to the year ahead.

* * *

**Author Note: Just a fairly short introductory-type chapter. Don't worry, things will start getting interesting soon! Also, take note that some of the chapter was taken from Order of the Phoenix.**

**Good news, for the sequel is almost finished, I'm definitely in the trail end of it now! It's about 20k words now, and might just reach 30k if I'm lucky. Angst, lots of angst!**

**For those who haven't heard, Peter Capaldi will be playing the 12th Doctor! I think this is great news, it's about time we had an 'older' Doctor. I'm not saying that Matt was bad (he's my favourite new series Doctor), I just think that we've gone as young as we can go, and it's time to bump up the age again. I have every confidence that Peter will be amazing!**

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**Insanityisgood25: Yes, adding more realism is something I'm aiming for in the rewrite, and I think I've achieved it. Yeah, I like the table tennis bit too (probably because I play it myself!). It's actually a reference to the Classic Series, where the Fourth Doctor pulls out a membership card for the club in 'Robot', his first serial.**

**shtoops: Really? I don't remember anything like that being in the Classic Series, and I like to think of myself as an expert. I'm certain the Classic Series never explored the early Time Lords much; they stop at Rassilon and Omega. (As far as I'm concerned, the Other is non-existent.) What you described sounds a lot more like the novels. Still, I could be wrong.**

**BlooperLover: Thanks, I love that line too, I just had to write it! Hope you like this chapter!**

**twinpowersactivate & Guest: Thanks!**

**TheBleachDoctor: We got a bit of an idea in this chapter, but we'll get even more of an idea in the next one.**


	5. First Science Lesson

**Chapter 4 – First Science Lesson**

After an early morning run-in with Seamus, ("Git," said Ron angrily, glaring as Seamus hurriedly left the dormitory, "I thought he'd believe you!") Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the Ravenclaws down to breakfast, looking instinctively at the staff table as they sat down. Professor Smith was talking to Professor Sinistra, and judging by her expression, she wasn't liking what Professor Smith was saying. Passing over this, the trio began eating breakfast. Professor McGonagall started moving down the table handing out time tables soon after.

"Now, Potter, Granger and Weasley, I suspect you all heard what Dumbledore was saying about the new subject?"

"Oh, yes, of course, Professor," said Hermione eagerly. "May I take it?"

McGonagall smiled. "I thought as much," she said, tapping a piece of parchment with her wand and handing it to Hermione. "Your first science lesson will be in classroom six in the last period of the day."

"Now," she said, turning to Harry and Ron. "I take it you will be joining your friend in Science this afternoon?"

Harry swallowed his bacon hastily. "Ah, well, yes, I suppose."

"Excellent," said McGonagall, and she handed a piece of parchment to Harry and Ron, who immediately scanned it eagerly.

"Oh, no!" Ron groaned after about ten seconds.

"What is it?" asked Hermione anxiously. "They haven't mixed up your subjects, have they?"

"No, it's not that, rather, it's what subjects I _have_ got. Look at this - History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Science ... Binns, Snape, Trelawney, Umbridge and that Smith weirdo all in one day! Worst Monday ever!"

"Tell me about it," Harry groaned.

They were distracted by the sound of a large argument coming from the Slytherin table. It appeared as if Malfoy didn't like the time table Professor Snape had just given him and the other Slythering fifth years.

"I don't want to do science!" Malfoy was saying loudly, with the most of the other Slytherins nodding their heads in agreement.

"Listen," said Snape crossly. "I don't like the fact that there is a muggle subject any more than you do, but the fact remains that the things taught in this subject will benefit you tremendously! How would you like it if your refusal to take the subject meant the _Hufflepuff__s_ got a better education than you and your friends?"

That got Mallfoy's attention.

"Fine," he spat. "We'll do it."

Snape nodded curtly and moved away.

"You know," said Ron, turning back to the Gryffindor table, grinning. "That must've been the second time I've ever supported Snape in anything! You show Malfoy who's boss, Snape!"

"Science must be really good if Snape's supporting it," Hermione said excitedly. "I wonder what we'll be doing?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" said Harry.

* * *

After enduring the agony of all three of his worst subjects (which soon became all four of his worst subjects by the time Defence was finished), Harry was back in a gloomy mood. He tried to cheer himself up before science, as he knew Professor Smith was a new teacher, and wanted to give him a fair chance. Malfoy, however, wasn't making this easy.

"Pathetic," he said, as the class lined up outside the classroom. "Science - what a waste of time. Us Slytherins wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for Snape."

The other Slytherins nodded, while the rest of the class Rolled their eyes.

"Well, us Hufflepuffs didn't need our Head of House to force us," said Ernie Macmillan. "I personally find the idea of learning how our world works as very intriguing, and the same goes for Hannah and Susan as well."

"Well, those in Ravenclaw like to know as much as we can," said Terry Boot. "This science class sounds like it'll really expand our knowledge."

The door to the room swing open, and the class entered, the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors trying not to look too excited, while the Slytherins tride not to look too bored.

The first thing that Harry noticed upon entering classroom six that afternoon was the abundance of posters that had been charmed to the walls; there were hundreds of them detailing and describing concepts that he couldn't comprehend. Then there were the models of planets and a plethora of other things that he couldn't identify, all being stored in glass cabinets and display cases.

Hermione was in her element.

"Wow!" she breathed. "Look at that – it's a Newton's cradle!" she said, pointing to model with four marbles suspended next to each other on individual pieces of string.

"Come again?" asked Ron.

"Newton's cradle, it shows how kinetic energy works. And that's a Van de Graff generator – it builds up a charge of static electricity, and -" she faltered.

"And what?" said Harry.

"Well, a big blue box," she finished lamely.

A big blue box with the words 'Police Public Call Box' emblazoned on the top was standing to the right of the teacher's desk, at which Professor Smith sat. Compared with all the other science related objects in the room, it looked quite out of place. Wondering what on earth a blue box had to do with science, Harry took a seat next to Ron at the front of the class.

When all of the class had assembled Professor Smith took the roll, jumping up when he had finished.

"Hello everyone! I'm Professor Smith, and I'm here to teach you all about the universe, the world, and a bunch of other exciting...stuff!"

The class exchanged dubious looks. Had been given a madman instead of a teacher? Finally, the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy rang out across the room.

"If you don't mind me asking, _sir, _but are you qualified to teach us? You look like you've just finished school!"

Professor Smith only grinned. "I think you'll find me perfectly qualified to teach you everything I know, Mister (he consulted the roll) Malfoy. If you want to see my credentials, just ask, but for your general information, I graduated from the Magical Scientific Institute of Brisbane fifteen years ago."

"But sir!" said Hermione, her hand in the air, "You look about twenty-five! If you graduated fifteen years ago, that would make you ten when you graduated!"

"I agree," Professor Smith said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But there is a difference between appearances and fact, Miss (he looked at the roll again) Granger. But anyway, my age is unimportant, but your education isn't. So, first of all, can anyone tell me how wizards control magic?"

Unsurprisingly, Hermione's hand immediately shot up. "Please sir, we can control magic through a chemical in our blood. It..."

Professor Smith let her finished before stating in a very matter-of-fact way. "No, wrong, incorrect. Wizards cannot control magic because of their blood, it's a lot more complicated than that."

Hermione was shocked. How could she possibly be wrong? "But sir," she said, confused. "I _know_ I'm right; I've read all about it!"

"No, no, no, no! Blood is not responsible for the control of magic!" countered Professor Smith fiercely. "And I'll prove it to you." He walked behind his desk, withdrew his wand ('_That's odd,_' thought Hermione. "_I swear I saw a flash of green._") and rapped it against the black board. A chalk drawing of a helix-shaped construct immediately appeared on the board.

"This," said Professor Smith, replacing his wand in his jacket pocket, "is the DNA double helix. Does anyone know what DNA is?"

Silence.

"Okay, let's start at the basics. DNA, or deoxyribonucleic acid, is what makes you human. In simple terms, it is information that contains instructions on how every single function in your body is performed; it's the body's blueprint, if you like. DNA is itself made up of billions of base pairs – they're the 'rungs' of the double helix. Each of the billions of bases is one of four varieties: adenine, thymine, cytosine and guanine. Adenine pairs with thymine, cytosine pairs with guanine. These bases are the letters in the information, and are arranged in a particular order along the DNA strand. The order of the bases is what makes up the information. So, how do we get from ordered base pairs to your bodily functions? Time to open your books..."

The majority of the lesson consisted of Professor Smith teaching the class all about protein synthesis, the translation of DNA into mRNA, how amino acid chains are coded based on the mRNA template, and how the polypeptide chain is folded into the correct shape, and therefore protein, in a cell organelle.

To the class, the amount of information they learnt was staggering.

"All this is happening _inside_ us?" asked Anthony Goldstein incredulously. "Wow!"

Professor Smith grinned. "I know, pretty cool, right? But hold on just a second, there's something I haven't told you yet. You see, sometimes when DNA or RNA is being copied, mistakes occur. Mostly, these mistakes are picked up on and corrected, but sometimes, they aren't. These mistakes, or mutations, have the potential to affect certain areas of the body. For example, if the base sequence AGTCGGTA codes for five toes, the sequence ACTGCCTA will code for say, twenty. But not all mutations are bad, in fact sometimes they don't have an effect on the body at all!"

"So, now you know the basics of protein synthesis and mutations, I'd like you to practise identifying mutations in the following base sequences," said Professor Smith, tapping the blackboard with his wand again, this time causing a few questions to appear on the board.

The rest of the lesson had the class completing the questions, and it wasn't long before the bell rung to signal the end of the school day.

"Don't pack up yet; homework: find out what allows you to control magic!" Professor Smith shouted as students began to pack up prematurely. He tapped the black board one final time, making it display a base sequence code labelled 'Normal' and a second one labelled 'Wizard'.

"Copy this down and you may go."

Harry, Ron and Hermione copied down the homework before heading out the door with the rest of the class.

* * *

"What did everyone think about the lesson?" Harry asked as the trio made their way up to the Common Room after dinner.

"On the whole, very interesting," replied Hermione. "I mean, all the processes that go on inside us! But I wish Professor Smith hadn't completely disregarded the fact of the matter: that a wizard's ability to control magic is caused by blood."

"But isn't blood made up of these proteins?" said Ron. "Because that would mean you're right!"

"I suppose..." said Hermione slowly. "But I'm pretty sure that wasn't what Professor Smith was getting at."

"Well, no matter what happens, we'll trust you, Hermione. You've never been proved wrong yet," said Ron.

Hermione blushed slightly. "Thanks, Ron," she said as they approached the portrait hole. "Mimbulus Mimbletonia," she enounced clearly, allowing them entry into the Common Room. "But did you guys see his wand? I swear I saw a flash of green!"

"So?" Ron asked, glancing over to a corner of the Common Room to see Fred and George trialling their Skiving Snackboxes on some naive first years. Fred met his gaze and grinned; Ron quickly averted his eyes.

"Hello?" Hermione said crossly, snapping her fingers in front of Ron's face. "Wands aren't green, you know."

"Maybe Professor Smith dyed or painted it green," suggested Harry. "After all, he's a bit, you know, _weird_."

"Telling me," Ron agreed. "I mean, who keeps a big blue box in the middle of their classroom?"

"Well, if it's some kind of storage device that he keeps his equipment in, then I can see why," said Hermione, sitting down on her favourite couch beside the fire. "But if it isn't...though I can't imagine what else it'd be anyway."

"Well," sighed Harry, joining Hermione on the couch and extracting his science book from his bag. "We may as well get started on our only homework of the day."

"Good idea," Ron said. He sat down on the couch, took out his homework, and looked expectantly and Hermione. "Well, 'Mione? What's the difference between these two base sequences?"

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Excuse me, Ronald, but you are a fifth year _Prefect _at Hogwarts, surely you can do your own homework by now! It's not even that hard, we did heaps of questions like that in class!"

As Ron started to argue, Harry shook his head and got cracking at his own homework. Unfortunately, Hermione was right, it wasn't hard, and didn't take long to complete, which meant that by the time he disengaged his brain from study mode, Ron and Hermione were still annoying each other.

"...do without you? We'd fail!" moaned Ron.

"Good, because you might finally come to realise that you can't depend on me forever!" Hermione said fiercely. "Now good_night_!" And with that, she scooped up her bag and stormed off to the girls' dormitories.

Ron frowned at her retreated form, but immediately turned to Harry. "Harry, you've finished the homework haven't you? Whatd'ya get?"

Harry hesitated, the pushed his book over to Ron, who scanned the page and started scribbling eagerly in his book. Harry knew he shouldn't let Ron copy his work like that, but they were best friends, and that was what best friends did.

* * *

**Author Note: Hermione didn't like the Professor Smith saying she was wrong, did she? Her insistence that she's right will continue in later chapters.****  
**

**Bit of a biology lesson in this chapter, I'm pretty sure I got everything right. I didn't go into much detail, obviously. All the processes are a lot more complicated than I made out!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Insanityisgood25: The thestrals aren't important to the story, so I didn't include them. In this version of the Harry Potter universe, he still saw them, though I just didn't describe the encounter.**

**GoldenDiamonds: For the reasons given in the chapter, mostly everyone!**

**Henny14: Thanks! Hope you enjoyed this one too, and are satisfied with how it played out.**

**emflawlesswatson: Thanks, I try to be very careful that the Doctor's in character, after all, he's the most important character to get right. Hopefully this chapter answered your question as to how the trio would react when they met him. They'll spend a lot of time together later on, particularly in the sequel. ;) As for Peter, I think it's great that he's older, because another young person would've been continually compared (probably unfavourably) to Matt. Still, further judgement will have to be reserved until his first episode. **

**SuperDoctorWhoMind: Thanks!**


	6. The Truth About Magic

**Chapter 5 – The Truth About Magic**

Harry had little time to ponder the eccentricity of Professor Smith over the next few days, as his pile of homework grew increasingly higher. This, combined with his nightly detentions with Professor Umbridge, meant that his temper was almost permanently out of control, a fact that greatly aggrieved Ron and Hermione.

"Look mate, we know she's evil, but you just need to keep a cool head when she's around," Ron advised as the trio made their way to classroom six two days later.

"I want to, I really do, but I just can't," Harry said crossly as he barged through the door, distracting Professor Smith, who looked up from his work.

"You're early!" he said brightly, a big grin plastered on his face. The grin quickly disappeared when he saw Harry's expression. "Anything wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"No," Harry said shortly, sitting down at a desk at taking his books out.

"You sure?" Professor Smith asked, frowning. "If there's anything I can do to –"

"I'm _fine_, sir!" Harry said fiercely, glaring at his science teacher. Professor Smith's frown increased, but he let the subject drop. Hermione and Ron looked at him sympathetically, and took their seats next to their friends as the rest of the class entered the room. Professor Smith's demeanour changed instantly, and he jumped up from behind his desk, tweed jacket fluttering behind him.

"Hello, everyone! I hope you've all done your homework!" he said happily, clasping his hands together. "Oh, don't worry," he added, seeing the class exchange guilty glances with each other. "I don't particularly like homework, so you don't need to do it if you don't want to."

"Oh, no!" Hermione said in horror while the rest of the class shared delighted grins.

"So," Professor Smith continued, "today, we're going to have a look at what magic actually is. Did anyone actually do their non-compulsory homework?"  
Hermione's hand shot into the air, while Harry, Ron and one or two others begrudgingly raised their arms.

"Please sir," said Hermione, not waiting for Professor Smith to ask someone to tell their answer. "There was a difference in the base sequence; therefore, it's logical to assume that magic is caused by a mutation in the human DNA strand."

Professor Smith was impressed. "Well done, Miss Granger," he said. "Twenty points to Gryffindor! Yes, there was a difference in the base sequence, but you're only half right for the next bit. DNA mutations don't actually cause magic, they allow you to control magic."

The class was intrigued now. If magic wasn't caused by blood, as they had been led to believe, then what was? Professor Smith opened his mouth, but paused, then frowned.

"Come one then!" Malfoy drawled exasperatedly. "Just tell us what causes the stuff."

Professor Smith looked slightly caught out. "Well, err, yes. It's just that I shouldn't really be telling you this, because it won't be common knowledge for about another one hundred and one thousand, four hundred and sixty-four years..."

Malfoy coughed.

"Yes, fine! Magic is a field, similar to the three common ones, you know, electric, gravitational and magnetic. It's harmless, but it interferes with electronic equipment. The field is comprised of particles. These particles are what magic is on the subatomic level. Wands act as a sort of focusing device for these particles. The particles enter your body due to the mutation in your DNA, and are channelled through your arm before being focused and emitted by your wand, creating a spell. I think there might be a bit of Block Computation Transfer involved too...I'll have to check up on that." Professor Smith mused.

"So, sir," said Lavender Brown slowly, "Magic is just a particle in a field, and witches and wizards can harness it because of a DNA mutation?"

"A simplified version, but yes."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "This class is ridiculous," he said to Crabbe and Goyle, who nodded in agreement.

"So!" said Professor Smith, taking out his wand and rapping against the blackboard. "While we're on the subject of genetic mutations, here's a list of them. Now this one, the deletion mutation..."

The class subsequently spent the rest of the lesson writing notes about the different types of DNA and RNA mutations. It was an extremely arduous task, and so by the time the bell rang to signify the end of the lesson, the class was quite glad to leave. Harry, Ron and Hermione were soon walking down the marble staircase to lunch, but managed to overhear Malfoy make a comment to Pansy Parkinson that sounded suspiciously like '_Just wait till I tell Umbridge about all the rubbish that Smith guy's going on about.'_

"Just like Malfoy to get a teacher who he doesn't like into trouble," muttered Ron darkly. "I don't mind him myself, like you said last night, Harry, he's a bit weird."

"Wonder where he comes from," Harry said thoughtfully. "He sounds British, but for some reason I get the feeling that he's from abroad."

"Well," said Hermione matter-of-factly, "apparently he told Ginny's class that he was educated at the Magical Scientific Institute of Brisbane."

"Brisbane, where's that?" asked Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's the capital of Queensland, Ronald, which is a state of Australia." She frowned. "But like you said, Harry, he sounds British. Maybe he moved to Australia to get his education, that would explain his unfamiliarity with Hogwarts that people are reporting."

"If he went overseas to get his education, that'd mean he comes from one of those ancient wizarding families, you know, the ones with tonnes of gold."

"Like me, you mean, Weasley?" Draco's drawl interrupted the trio's conversation. "Of course, that means that your Professor friend must be a lot more respectable than your blood traitor family...not that that's saying much anyway."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron muttered, ears turning red.

Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly.

"It's the third day of term, Malfoy, and you're already trying to get a new teacher into trouble? Why?" asked Harry.

"Because I can, Potty, that's why. Magic is caused by DN-whatsis along with particles in a field, my boot. That's just a complete load of garbage; no wonder this place is going to the dogs. I knew this subject would be hopeless, I shouldn't have listened to Snape when he told me to do it."

"I think you're right, Malfoy," Hermione said unexpectedly. "All this stuff about magic and genetics is idiotic."

Malfoy actually took a step back, too shocked to speak. Harry and Ron just stood there stupidly, gawking at her. Malfoy soon recovered.

"The mudblood agrees with me! The mudblood actually _agrees_ with me!" he exclaimed. "Finally come round to your senses, have you?"

Ron growled menacingly. Hermione gritted ger teeth, but ignored the use of the derogatory noun.

"No," she replied stiffly. "I just think you're right about what Professor Smith is teaching. It's well documented in wizarding literature that magic is caused by blood, I'm not going to blindly change my mind because some twenty-five year old says otherwise. And besides, I don't think you should go running off to Umbridge; he's only new, give him a chance! He might come to his senses soon, and see thatwhat he's teaching is wrong."

Malfoy considered. "Alright. But if he mentions anything more about the rubbish he's been telling so far, and the lessons don't improve, then I'll go straight to Umbridge first thing on the weekend, got it?"

The trio all nodded their heads, and walked away, picking up their conversation as they entered the Great Hall.

"I'll kill Malfoy if he ever calls you that again, Hermione," Ron said fiercely.

"Just ignore it, Ron. I know it's hard, especially for me, but he wants to get a reaction out of us," Hermione said.

"Like you'd have a go at Malfoy again," grinned Harry. "Remember the last time you tried to take action against him?"

Ron flushed, remembering the slugs, and quickly changed subjects. "What do you think about him saying that the particles will be discovered in another hundred and one thousand, four hundred and sixty-four years? Maybe he's using a time turner to go into the future!"

"Nonsense, Ronald, time turners can only take you back in time, not forwards, and even if you could go forwards, imagine how many times you'd have to spin the thing!" laughed Hermione.

"So what do you think, then?"

"I think he's lying. No one can travel forwards in time, it's just not possible."

Ron opened his mouth, and their second argument of the term commenced. This time, it lasted for the rest of the day, so that by the time Umbridge's detention rolled around, Harry was almost happy to go, if only to escape his quarrelling friends.

* * *

'_Power levels have been recharged to 86%... Power levels are now sufficient to begin reanimation...Encrypted signal dispatched to Mothership...Structure close to crash site an area of high interest...'_

* * *

**Author Note: Power levels are recharged to 86%! What does that mean? The mystery's starting to build...**

**I hope the explanation of magic made some sense, just think of electrons in an electric field; same principle. I have to admit I much prefer this explanation to the one in the original.**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Henny14: Thanks! Most of the chapters will be over 2000 words (I think one or two are over 3000), but there are a couple, this one included, that are just under 2k. I plan to update every four days, so you'll never have to wait long between updates!**

**Insanityisgood25: Thanks! Unless I add them at the last minute, the thestrals won't be appearing, they don't add anything to the plot. On the other hand, having the Doctor seeing them would actually be a good reason for another introspection scene in the sequel. (Goodness knows it's got heaps of them already!). I can confirm that there will be an Umbridge-Doctor confronation, but I won't be sharing the details, you'll have to wait!**

**BeatleLoverGirl: Thanks!**

**emflawlesswatson: Thanks, I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! Yes, I'm looking forward to the sequel as well, and also to see if you guys can pick up all the foreshadowing I've put in this one.**

**TheBleachDoctor: Thanks, hopefully it'll get even better!**

**aronpuma: Yeah, I absolutely hated Umbridge in the books. Believe me, by the time this story's finished, you'll hate her even more! I checked out A Very Potter Sequel, but I'm not a fan of those types of stories, so no reference, I'm afraid.**


	7. Inspection

**Chapter 6 – Inspection**

"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked Harry at breakfast the next day, watching his friend as she shoved food into her mouth as fast as she could. Receiving a shrug in reply, he groaned. "It's not _Spew_ again, is it?" he said, wincing.  
"_Spew!_" Ron spluttered, half chewed bacon spraying everywhere. "Hermione, please tell me you're not working on that again!"  
Swallowing hastily, Hermione glared at him.

"Of course not, Ronald, I've just got some other research I've got to do before science today," she said, before standing up and practically ran out of the Great Hall.  
Harry and Ron exchanged dark looks.  
"If it's something to do with _Spew_, I'll kill her," Ron said crossly, spearing a fried egg with his fork.

* * *

Hermione's _Spew_-esque behaviour continued for the rest of the day, but nothing anyone said to her would make her divulge the exact details of her activities.  
"All will become clear in science," was her mantra, and that was all anyone got out of her.

"You look happy, Hermione, why do you look happy?" Ron frowned as they entered classroom for their final science lesson of the week.

"All will become clear in science," Hermione replied cheerfully, sitting down at a desk in the front row.

Ron rolled his eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's science now! Come on, tells us what's bothering you."

"Hello, everyone!" Professor Smith said, jumping down the stairs that led to his office. "How are we all, ready for some more genetics, yeah?" he said excitedly, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

The class mumbled in agreement, but Hermione shot her hand into the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger? Do you have a question about something I haven't taught you yet? Or is it something from last lesson?" Professor Smith asked eagerly.

"Sir, last lesson," Hermione said, taking out a notebook, "you said that the fact that magic was a field with charged particles would not be common knowledge for another one hundred and one thousand, four hundred and sixty-four years, correct?"

"Well, yes." Professor Smith looked slightly surprised that she'd remembered all of those details.

"Um, then could you please explain to me and the class, in detail, how you managed to travel into the future, then make it safely back to the present? Particularly when the extensive research I have conducted on wizarding methods of time travel, none of them mention any way to travel into the future. Sir?" she asked confidently, sitting back down.

The class was shocked. Hermione Granger had actually asked a teacher to explain himself, and essentially accused him of lying! What was going on here?

If Hermione had expected Professor Smith to be put off by her demands, she was wrong. Instead of the pausing, thinking and stuttering she expected him to do, Professor Smith rattled out an answer straight away.

"Wormholes, obviously," he said unconcernedly.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione said, eyebrow raised sceptically.

"Wormholes. I visited the, err, Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland a few years ago. They succeeded in making a wormhole by slamming a few particles together, and had recently made it traversable. I volunteered to test it, and, after entering the thing, ended up one hundred and one thousand, four hundred and sixty-six years in the future."

The class just stared at their teacher with extremely blank faces; not one of them had understood a word Professor Smith had said. Hermione, however, frowned.

"So how exactly did you get back?"

"Easy, I used one of those...things, the um, spinny things, the ones that go tick," Professor Smith said, miming a winding movement with both hands.

"A time turner?" Hannah Abbott suggested.

"Yeah, them," Professor Smith agreed, pointing at Hannah.

Malfoy laughed. "HA! Do you know how many turns it would take to get back to your present? Pur-lease."

"Just because you can't turn the thing almost nine hundred million times!" Professor Smith pouted. "I had to keep count and - oh, shut up!"

All of the class, excluding the Slytherins, giggled, while Malfoy flushed red.

Professor Smith turned to Hermione. "I hope that satisfies you, Miss Granger? Now if it's all right, I do have a lesson to teach."

Hermione bit her lip, but nodded.

"Excellent! Now, right, let's move onto Natural Selection, one of the most powerful natural forces in existence, and is responsible for wizards existing. In fact, it's responsible for most, if not all of the current genetic variety. Simply put, natural selection will make sure that an organism with the best genes will survive, thus, in the long run, will better the species by making them adapt to their environment. Following so far?"

The class nodded.

"OK. There is one downside to natural selection though; it decreases genetic variety in a population. For example, if you had a group of dogs with short and long fur, and it got really cold..."

* * *

"So _that's_ what you've been doing all day, Hermione!" said Lavender Brown as the class left the room. "You were researching on time travel in an effort to humiliate him!"

"But it didn't go as you'd hoped, did it?" giggled Parvati.

Hermione flushed. "Well, no. But honestly, wormholes? Who thinks of this rubbish?"

"Him, probably," replied Lavender coolly. "Just because you haven't thought of it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. There are plenty of people who are a lot smarter than you, Hermione, and Professor Smith is one of them!"

And with that, Lavender grabbed Parvati's hand and pranced off down the hallway, leaving a very hurt Hermione behind.

* * *

'_Encrypted signal detected. Decryption of signal...2% completed.'_

The Doctor frowned at the TARDIS' monitor as the machine began deciphering the signal. Hopefully it was just a weird method of wizard communication; he really didn't need another alien menace. Knowing his luck, however...

A gentle knocking on the TARDIS' door interrupted his thoughts. Surprised, he activated the TARDIS' scanner screen and was annoyed to see Professor Umbridge standing outside.

"What does she want?" he muttered, jumping down the steps and opening the door.

"Ah, John," Umbridge said as soon as the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS. "You should have heard that, as of today, the Minister has appointed me to the position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor."

"Uh - no," the Doctor said bluntly. "So?"

Umbridge frowned and looked a little offended. "It is now my job to inspect my colleagues at this school. If I find them...unsatisfactory," she gave a little laugh, and indicated a clipboard under her left shoulder, "I fire them!"

The Doctor was taken aback at her enthusiasm of potentially firing her fellow teachers, but something else drove that from his mind almost immediately. Inspection? An Inspection? He hadn't been inspected for a long time, not since his days in the Academy!

"Oh. Well then," he said, adjusting his bow tie and puffing out his chest, "inspect me! What do I do?" he asked excitedly, surprising Umbridge. She hadn't encountered anyone who wanted an inspection before.

"I just need to ask you a few questions before class. Firstly, if you don't mind me asking," she said sweetly, "what's your age?"

"That's a personal question," grumbled the Doctor indignantly.

"Yet one that has to be answered, John," Umbridge replied, a tad impatiently.

"Fine. One thousand, three hundred and thirteen."

"I'm sorry...?"

"One thousand, three hundred and thirteen."

"Don't be absurd!"

Professor Smith frowned. "Who says I was?"

Umbridge stared intensly at him for a moment, before sighing, raising an incredulous eyebrow and making a note on her clipboard. "And you have, of course, been teaching for two weeks today?"

"Yeah, but I do have previous teaching experience...sort of."

"Do tell," Umbridge said, looking up at him expectantly.

"I taught at this school once, back in two thousand and seven. It was going quite well really," he grinned. "Until I, err," his smile slid of his face and was replaced with a grimace.

"Yes?" Umbridge said.

"Until I, err, well, blew it up," he finished lamely, looking anywhere except at Umbridge.

"You...you blew it up?" Umbridge shrieked, taking a step backwards.

"Yeah, some bit of trouble with the Krillitanes, had to get my robot dog to, uh, shoot a vat of oil." He winced. "I probably shouldn't have mentioned that."

Umbridge, however, wasn't listening. Instead, she was scribbling furiously on her clipboard. She continued this for another few minutes before finally looking up. "What has been your curriculum thus far in the term?"

At this, the Doctor visibly cheered. Science was what he loved talking about.

"Well, the First Years have been learning stuff like energy; the basics. The Second Years are currently doing geology; the Thirds are just about to start ecology. Fourth Years are enjoying the basics of Chemistry, whilst the Fifth Years have just finished genetics and are moving onto Astronomy-"

"Astronomy?" Umbridge interrupted sharply. "Why? Astronomy is already taught by Professor Sinistra."

The Doctor snorted. "Professor Sinistra wouldn't know astronomy if were dancing in front of her! Did you know," he said, leaning in confidentially, "that she thought the Proxima Centauri system was made up of just _one_ star! I know!" he said, misreading Umbridge's expression of scepticism for one of pity. "Poor woman, you'd think after all the time she's spent in the business that she'd know that it's a ternary star system. Honestly!"

Umbridge nodded and wrote a few more notes.

"But really," Professor Smith continued, "All this stuff's easy, I mean, the things _I_ was taught at the Academy are way more interesting than this - Intestellar Engineering, that was a laugh, that was. And your good old Temporal Mechanics..."

Umbridge frowned and resumed her scribbling on her clipboard. This Professor Smith was extremely eccentric. Cornelius would have to be notified immediately.

* * *

Harry shivered as he glanced at Umbridge upon entering classroom six that afternoon.

"Never mind her, mate, mind _him_," Ron said darkly, pointing to Malfoy, who was sniggering as he took his seat at the back of the class. "Idiot, probably thinks Professor Smith is going to have his pants kicked off by toad face."

"Ron!" whispered Hermione, shocked. "How can you? I for one hope that she stops Professor Smith from telling all these lies."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Still don't believe him about the DNA thing, do you? You're hopeless, Hermione, honestly."

"Hmph!" Hermione replied crossly, and she folded her arms and waited for the class to begin.

"Hello, everyone!" Professor Smith said exuberantly. "You may have noticed that we have a guest today, Professor Umbridge, who's actually going to be _inspecting me_!" I know!" he said, misreading the anxious looks on most of the class' faces. "Anyway, moving on. Today we start a new unit: astronomy, and the related sciencey bits. So, first up is gravity, does anyone know what it is?"

Silence.

"No one?" asked Professor Smith. "Perhaps you need a hint. So, gravity is the force that keeps your feet on the floor, and stops you from floating off to Zeta Minor, which is a terrible planet, you really wouldn't want to go there. Too much antimatter," he whispered to Umbridge.

Hermione chewed her lip for a second before raising her hand. "Sir, is gravity the result of charm performed by the thirty-five warlocks of the tenth Contingent of Egypt in fifteen thousand BC, which made physical objects bind to each other?"

Professor Smith burst out laughing. "Gravity is created by warlocks of the tenth...that was a good one! You know," he said, grinning, "You know, you almost had me convinced that you believed that load of dalek droppings!"

"But sir..." said Terry Boot hesitantly. "We do. Professor Binns told us in History of Magic last year."

The rest of the class nodded, though the majority of them couldn't remember anything Professor Binns had taught them, let alone something about Egyptian warlocks.

Professor Smith facepalmed. "No," he groaned, removing his hand from his face. "That is no more the truth than I am a dog from Barcelona. The planet," he added.

Hermione was scandalised. "Sir, I know I'm right, it's in all the history books, History of Magic, Great Wizarding Inventions..."

Professor Smith ignored her and raised his voice to talk over her. "Gravity is created by mass. Well, no, technically, it's created by energy and momentum, but that's for seventh year. So, for you lot, any object that has mass creates gravity. _I'm_ creating gravity, as are all of you. Gravity pulls objects together; this is what keeps the planets and the Earth in orbit around the sun. The sun pulls on the Earth, and the Earth pulls on the sun. Neither can escape from the pull of the other. That same principle applies to us. The Earth pulls on us, and we pull on the Earth."

"So is that why we can't fly?" asked Dean Thomas.

"Correct, Mister Thomas, ten points to Gryffindor! Yes, we can't fly without aid because the Earth's mass, and henceforth its gravitational pull, is too great," Professor Smith explained.

Hermione frowned. "But sir, if the more mass an object has means that its gravitational pull is greater, then why doesn't the Earth crash into the sun?" she asked.

"Because the Earth is travelling too fast in space to crash into the sun. Its velocity is _precisely _what is needed to keep the Earth in a sustained orbit. If we were going too fast, we'd zoom off into space, sort of what the Daleks were attempting to do to this planet. Or will attempt..."

The class neither knew nor cared what daleks were, and just sat there dumbfounded as Professor Smith continued to ramble on about gravity, the fundamental force of the universe. Professor Umbridge, meanwhile, had been busy scribbling in her notebook. She finally stopped this behaviour after three quarters of the lesson, and proceeded to walk around the class, asking questions.

"Do you find these lessons interesting?" she asked Susan Bones.

"Umm, yes I do, but I don't understand much of what Professor Smith says," was Susan's tentative reply.

"I see," said Umbridge with a satisfied smile. She turned to Pansy Parkinson. "Do you think the information you learn in this class will help you after you leave school?"

"No, because no one I know cares about this gravity stuff," snickered Pansy.

"Quite right," Umbridge replied, patting him on the shoulder as the bell rang. The class immediately began packing up.

"Professor Smith, a moment please!" cried Umbridge over the chattering students; Professor Smith went over to her. Upon seeing this, Harry, Ron and Hermione mimicked their actions in Transfiguration earlier that day, and hung back to eavesdrop on their teachers' conversation.

"When I came to see you before class, you were in that blue box over there. What is it and why does it say 'police'? Isn't 'police' the muggle term for an auror?" Umbridge asked.

"The box holds my equipment that I'll need for the sixth and seventh years," Professor Smith said, "And before you ask, no, you can't see it, it's extremely delicate. As for why it says police, well, I found it in a London junkyard in 1963, took a liking to it, bought it, and have used it as my storeroom ever since."

Umbridge seemed satisfied with those answers, but had one more question. "You said you were...how old, exactly?"

"One thousand, three hundred and thirteen. Why, is there something wrong? Am I a bit too old?" he trailed off, looking worryingly at Umbridge.

"Oh, no reason," said Umbridge sweetly. "Thank you for your time today, John. You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days."

She quickly exited the classroom, not even noticing Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were standing outside, shocked.

"Well, that was...enlightening," whispered Hermione.

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Quick let's get back to the Common Room before Professor Smith comes out and finds us. Harry and Hermione nodded, and all three tiptoed to the moving staircases.

* * *

Back in classroom six, Professor Smith had realised a terrible reality.

"How could I have forgotten?" he asked himself in surprise. "I'm one thousand, three hundred and thirteen years old! One thousand, three hundred and thirteen, with only one regeneration left! I have to visit her, yes, I must go back. Yes. Now." With his mind made up, Professor Smith strode over to the blue box, and stepped inside. A minute later, it wheezing, groaning sound emanated from the box, and it slowly began to disappear, startling Mrs Norris, who ran yowling back to her beloved owner.

* * *

"What's that?" Harry asked, as he paused and cocked his ear on the staircase leading to the fourth floor. He swore that he'd just heard a weird wheezing, groaning sound.

"What's what?" asked Hermione, concerned. "It's not the, you know, basilisk again?"

"No, it was more mechanical..."

Ron shrugged. "Must be hearing things, mate. I didn't hear a thing."

"And besides, mechanical things don't work at Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air," said Hermione reassuringly.

Not convinced, Harry frowned all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

* * *

**Author Note: Just like the original, the end of this chapter leads into my DW story 'One Day I Shall Come Back', where the Doctor visits his granddaughter, Susan. And I'm assuming that John Hurt's Doctor is the true 9th Doctor, hence why Professor Smith says he only has one regeneration left.  
**

**Replies to reviews:**

**shtoops: Thanks! I don't intend to explain the magical field any more than I already have, I just wanted to make it more believable that the DW & HP universes could be the same. That being said, the magic being charged particles in a field will have further uses (plotwise) down the line.**

**aronpuma: Would you believe it, but there's a fanfic called 'A Very Potter Sequel'! I didn't even realise the one you were referring to was a musical until yesterday (even your review didn't make it click), when I found it quite by accident. Although I loved it, there'll be no Draco/Hermione; only cannon pairings in this story and the sequel...save for one! It's actually interesting, but I feel that the Doctor I've written is very 11, so I suppose it's all subjective. Still, I'll look back at the story and see if I can make the aspects you pointed out more prominent. And sorry, but no fezzes or Captain Jacks will be appearing (Though a fez will be in the sequel).  
**

**Henny14: Thanks!**

**PureWhiteFire: Thanks, I hoped you like this one too! The only reason I've got regular updates for _this_ story is because I've already finished writing it, something I intend to do with all my future stories.**

**Insanityisgood25: Thanks! The sequel will be published either four days or a week after this one's finished, I haven't decided yet. It will only be a sequel to the rewrite, as there's stuff found only in the rewrite that sets up events for the sequel. That and the fact that I've changed the fates of a few of the characters...**


	8. Mystery

**Chapter 7 – Mystery**

Late that night, the trio were discussing the day's events, with Professor Smith being the main topic as usual. They were seated in their favourite armchairs around the fire, with Harry soothing his right hand in a bowl of Murtlap Essence after enduring another of Umbridge's horrific detentions.

"I'll bet Malfoy wasn't happy," Ron was saying. "Smith didn't even flinch at Umbridge. He even sounded as if he wanted to be inspected! Weirdo."

"I don't know about you, but I thought he was horrible. Speaking over the top of me, when I was trying to tell the class how gravity was actually created." Hermione sniffed crossly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Alright, Hermione. Please tell me that, if gravity was created fifteen thousand years ago, what happened before then? Did people just float around?"

Hermione hesitated. "I'm sure there's an explanation somewhere in the Library," she said eventually. "I'll have to look into it later."

Ron stood up. "I give up, Hermione. Are you ever going to understand that books don't have all the answers? Or that books aren't always right? Remember Lockhart?" he said, shaking his head.

Hermione flushed. "Fine, Ronald, I'll show you that books are always, always right. And while we're on the topic, did you hear how old Professor Smith said he was? One thousand, three hundred and thirteen! No one can be that old, it's not possible."

"Maybe he has a Philosopher's Stone," Harry said thoughtfully.

Hermione snorted. "Sure. That would mean he was born in the – oh, I don't know – the seventh century or something, which means he couldn't have created a Philosopher's Stone, because Nicholas Flamel didn't make his until the thirteen hundreds! And all instances I could find in the Library said that Flamel was the only maker of one anyway!"

"Books again, Hermione," Ron said sternly. "I seem to remember that the book actually said that Flamel was the only _known_ maker of the Philosopher's Stone. What if Professor Smith managed to hide the fact that he created one?"

"But...but," Hermione sounded close to tears. "The Stone doesn't prevent ageing, if Professor Smith had created one, he'd be an extremely old man by now! He's a liar, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it!"

And she stalked off to the girls' dormitories without another word.

"It's Rita Skeeter all over again, mate," Ron said, sighing.

"Great," Harry replied glumly.

Ron stood up. "Well, I may as well go to bed. Night, Harry."

"Night, Ron," yawned Harry. As Ron disappeared up the stairs, he closed his eyes and slowly dozed off.

* * *

_Thud! _

Harry's eyes shot open. What had woken him? He swore that moments before, a wheezing, groaning sound had interrupted his dream, but already the memory was hazy. Glancing around the Common Room, he could find no object that was the cause of his interrupted sleep. Hesitating for a split second, he got up and made to open the portrait hole.

"Ssh, old girl, you might have woken half the castle!" a voice whispered.

Harry froze, hand outstretched, ready to push the portrait of the Fat Lady. Someone was just outside!

"Let's see if you managed to land in the right place for once," the voice grumbled. "_Lumos! ..._Not bad, old girl, this looks like the seventh floor corridor, you only overshot by six floors!" said the voice, impressed.

Harry slowly pushed the portrait open enough to peek out, and managed to catch a glimpse of wand light before it went out.

"Oh, you don't like dealing with a completely new field of energy, do you?" the voice said, frustrated.

Harry frowned as the soft _clink_ of metal was heard; apparently the owner of the voice was tapping something against his hand. But wouldn't that be his wand? If so, why did it sound like metal? Harry was confused.

Eventually, the tapping ceased.

"Fat lot of good you are," the voice said crossly. "I'll need work on your ability to cope with unknown particles. As for you, old girl," the voice said softly. "I'll come and get you in the morning. I'll just pop inside and make you invisible."

Suddenly, the corridor was illuminated by a soft green light as the wand tip sparked and started glowing. Harry gasped softly as he realised who the owner of the voice was. It was Professor Smith. He was standing next to the blue box from classroom six, and he held a strange, copper coloured device in his hand.

'_That's not a _wand', thought Harry. '_It's got a green bulb on the end and it's a lot bigger!'_

Harry continued to stare in shock as Professor Smith frowned at the device in his hand, and entered the blue box, closing the door behind him. Breathing heavily, Harry slowly closed the portrait hole and turned around.

"Ah!" he cried in surprise. Hermione was standing in front of him, frowning. "What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I woke up and remembered that I hadn't put out the hats for the elves. Doesn't really matter anyway, they've already cleaned the room. But what were you doing?"

"I was, uh, looking through the portrait hole."

"Well, obviously," huffed Hermione. "But what at?"

"Come and see," replied Harry, gesturing at the hole.

Hermione pushed the portrait open slightly and looked out at the pitch black corridor.

"What am I meant to be seeing?"

Harry stared out as well. "Bother, he's gone. Hang on." He extracted his wand from his back pocket. "_Lumos,_" he said, and the corridor was lit again.

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "There's nothing here. You were probably sleep walking."

"I wasn't sleep walking, Hermione!" Harry said, climbing through the portrait hole and inspecting the corridor. "Professor Smith's blue box was right – ow!"

Harry hit the floor and stared up at the empty space in front of him. "I hit something, but nothing's there!"

"Must be invisible," Hermione said curiously, looking closely at the spot where Harry and fallen.

"It won't be for long!" Harry said confidently. Clearing his throat, he raised his wand. "_Specialis Revelio,_" he said. Instantly, a blue box shimmered into the visible spectrum.

"It is Professor Smith's box!" Hermione cried. "How on Earth did it get here?"

"Dunno," admitted Harry. "When I – hey!"

The air around the box sparked a few times, and the box disappeared again. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Nothing can resist Scarpin's Revelaspell," Hermione said quietly, looking hungrily at the space where the box had been. "Professor Smith must know very advanced magic to charm the box to be able disappear again."

Putting her arms out in front of her, she walked cautiously to the spot where she thought to box would be.

"Ah, got it!" she said as her hand hit an invisible surface. "But – oh!"

"What?"

"The box – it's vibrating!"

"Rubbish," scoffed Harry, but he moved forward anyway.

"Here," said Hermione, placing his hand where hers had been. To Harry's surprise, the box was vibrating, just as Hermione had said.

"Must be connected to a power supply somehow," Harry muttered thoughtfully.

"How? Hogwarts isn't connected to the power grid."

"Hmm. Maybe we should try the spell again, to see if there was anything we missed."

"Good idea."

"_Specialis Revelio,_" said Harry, and the box once again shimmered into existence.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, determined to take in every detail of the box before it turned invisible again.

"There!" she cried triumphantly. "There was a keyhole, which means -"

"That we can use alohomora to get inside!" finished Harry. "Good idea!" He quickly locked his eyes on the keyhole, and a second later the box sparked a few times and became invisible again.

Harry raised his wand and pointed at the spot where the keyhole had been a few seconds ago. "_Alohomora,_" he said confidently

_Click!_

Harry turned to Hermione, grinning in triumph. "Wanna go in-"

_Dong! _A dull ringing sound interrupted Harry.

"What was that?" he asked, eyes scanning the corridor for signs of life.

"Dunno," Hermione replied, looking curiously at the space where the box was. "It seemed to come from the box..."

Feeling his way forward, Harry put his ear against the box and listened. "Nothing, just a faint humming sound and the vibration we felt earlier – what the?"

A bright light streamed from the invisible keyhole, forming into...

"Professor Smith?" gasped Harry and Hermione in surprise.

"This is Emergency Programme Eight," the image of Professor Smith said. "A foreign object or force has been detected in the locking mechanism. The locking mechanism has now melted. Locking mechanism regeneration will occur in twelve hours."

The stream of light stopped abruptly, and the image disappeared.

"What the bloody hell was that?" asked a familiar voice.

Harry and Hermione whirled around to find a bewildered Ron standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, pointing a figure at the space previously occupied by the projected image of Professor Smith.

"I dunno," Harry said. "Some sort of projection I guess. Anyway, what are you doing up?"

Ron looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, if you must know, I had a really bad nightmare about those spiders in the Forbidden Forest. When I woke up, you weren't in your bed, so I came looking. You won't laugh will you, Harry, Hermione?" he pleaded.

"No, of course not, Ron," Hermione said sympathetically, glaring at Harry, who was trying to stifle his amusement.

"So," said Ron, walking forwards. "What are we all out here for?"

"Professor Smith's box is right-"

_Crash!_

"There," Hermione finished lamely, as Ron stood up, rubbing his head.

"Professor Smith's box? What's it doing here? How is it invisible?" Ron asked.

"We think Professor Smith brought it here," explained Harry, "but we're not sure how it's invisible, only that it's -"

"Impossible," muttered Hermione.

Harry frowned. "No, only that it resists -"

"No no," Hermione interrupted again. "That projection, it was a hologram!"

"A what?" asked Ron, confused.

"A hologram, basically, it's a three dimensional projected image. It doesn't have to be displayed on a two dimensional surface in order for it to be viewed."

"O-kay, so why is that impossible?"

"Because as far as I know, neither wizards nor muggles have invented them yet."

Silence.

"That is a problem," Harry admitted.

Ron shook his head. "Not it's not. Hermione, you're wrong again, wizards have invented a holo-whatsis, they're called patronuses. You know, the way you send messages with them."

Hermione massaged her temples. "Hmm, yes, now you mention it, that does seem like the logical solution. Must be tired."

Harry wasn't convinced. "Hang on," he said. "Even if it was a patronus, Professor Smith would have needed to cast it himself. And I don't think he's in there, he would've come out by now, we've been making too much noise."

"Too right you have," grumbled the Fat Lady. "I've been trying to sleep!"

Harry ignored her. "And if he's not in there, that means he's found a way of artificially producing a patronus!"

"Now _that's_ a problem," Ron said seriously.

Hermione mulled it over. "Well," she said finally. "I really want to know what's going on here, but we also need the sleep, but I get the feeling that if we go to bed, the box won't be here when we come down for breakfast."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Invisibility cloak," they said simultaneously. Harry quickly rushed into the Common Room to get it.

* * *

Four hours later...

The trio were huddled in the corner to the left of the Fat Lady, under the protection of the invisibility cloak. Ron was snoring on Hermione's shoulder, and Harry had found a rather comfortable niche in the brickwork to rest his head upon.

Ron emitted a particularly loud grunt, and leaned further on Hermione, unintentionally pushing her onto Harry, who fell over, waking them all up in the process.

"Urgh, Ronald, get off!" Hermione said in disgust, pushing the red head away. "Look, you've drooled all over my shoulder!"

"Yeah, well, it was comf – I was asleep," Ron corrected hurriedly, wiping his mouth.

"Sssh!" Harry whispered. "Someone's coming."

Sure enough, footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor. The trio quickly adjusted the invisibility cloak, making sure it covered every inch in them. Harry had just pulled his foot under the cloak when Professor Smith appeared in their field of vision. He didn't look happy.

"Who's gone and fiddled with your locking mechanism, old girl?" he muttered, taking his wand out of his pocket. A green light emitted from its tip, and a whirring sound began.

'_Just as I thought,_' Harry said to himself. '_That isn't a wand at all!_'

Suddenly, Professor Smith's box shimmered into existence, causing the trio to gasp softly in surprise. A beam of light shot out from the light on top of the box, and quickly formed into a holographic representation of the corridor. Professor Smith moved so that his back was facing the trio, blocking their view of the hologram.

"What's he doing?" Ron whispered.

"I can't tell," Hermione replied. "If only he'd move."

Nothing happened for several minutes, but eventually the beam of light stopped.

"You know," said Professor Smith, loud enough for Harry, Ron and Hermione to hear him clearly. "It's ever so handy having a camera in the light on top of the box. It records," he moved swiftly over to where the trio sat under the cloak, "everything." He pulled the cloak off them with a flourish.

"Hello Mr Potter, Miss Granger, and Mr Weasley. You've been out late tonight."

All three gulped.

"Err, you see, Professor," Hermione began, "we were just..."

Professor Smith raised an eyebrow. "Having a little camping trip out here? Not likely. No, I think you were doing something with my box."

"We tried to get in, sir," Harry admitted.

"Yes, I thought so," said Professor Smith, twiddling his unusual wand in his hand before putting it back in his pocket.

"Professor, what _is_ that?" Ron blurted.

"My wand," Professor Smith replied shortly, before spinning on the spot and walking over to his box. "You know, I was quite prepared to let you off for being out late at night," he turned and faced them again, "but since you tried to get in here," he patted the box. "Detention."

Hermione was scandalised. "Sir, you can't give us detention simply for trying to get into your box! That barely warrants a warning!"

"I was under the impression that I dictated whether or not you received detentions, Miss Granger." Professor Smith replied coolly.

"Yes, but-"

Professor Smith moved forward and put a finger on her lips. "No buts. Just accept and move on. It's worked so far for me, and believe me, it's had to."

Hermione finally lost her self control, and demanded, "Who _are_ you, Professor, really? You look thirty, but you say you're over one thousand years old. You've got an old blue box that can project holograms, and you give us detentions for being curious. Who are you?"

Professor Smith smiled sadly. "This face, I know, looks no older than a thirty year old. But see these eyes? They're old eyes, older than you could imagine. Now, Harry, Ron and Hermione," he said (all three registered the use of their first names), "forget me. I'm just your eccentric science teacher with a weird blue box who," he looked pointedly at Hermione, "judging by your reaction in class, teaches lies. That's all you know."

"Now," Professor Smith declared. "You three better get off to bed before everyone realises you've gone. Remember your detentions, you'll hear from me again soon."

"Yes, Professor," the trio replied sullenly, walking over to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia,_" Ron shouted, and the Fat Lady woke up. After giving them a lengthy scolding, she finally swung open, allowing them entry to the Common Room.

* * *

The Doctor watched as the portrait closed. Cursing himself for deciding to leave the TARDIS out in the open, he took out his sonic screwdriver and activated it, causing the TARDIS to silently dematerialise. Pocketing the handy device, he whistled quietly as he walked back down the corridor, knowing that he'd find the TARDIS parked in its usual spot in classroom six.

* * *

'_Revival from amber sleep...completed. Commander, all crew are now ready for duty.'_

"Excellent," hissed the Commander.

'_Sonar scans of the surrounding area indicate the ship has crashed in a large body of liquid. Volume analysis indicates the amount of liquid is suitable for the skarasen to be released._'

"Excellent," the Commander repeated. "Release it."

* * *

**Author note: And so the mystery begins to develop! Who or what is the skarasen? What will it do now that it's released?**

**If anyone's wondering why the Doctor didn't check on the TARDIS as soon as Harry and Hermione accidentally activated Emergency Programme Eight, it's because it was one of those rare occasions where he was asleep, and the signal from the sonic screwdriver wasn't loud enough to wake him.**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Ralph Waldo Picklechips: Oh, I have no doubt that the Doctor will have more than 12 regenerations, but the point is, in-universe, the Doctor doesn't know that (as far as we know!). And it's definitely Matt Smith, and the Doctor definitely sounds like Matt to me; I can't detect a whiff of David at all. Like I said a few chapters ago, I suppose it's all subjective.**

**wmwhitewolf: Thanks!**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: This story is set pre-series 7, so he's still technically travelling with the Ponds. The reason he says he's in his 1300s is because I refuse to go along with his current age as given in the programme. (He was over 900 in his sixth body, for crying out loud!).**

**Yes, so do I, I'm really looking forward to him. My dad actually said he looked like an older David Tennant!**

**Thanks! The main enemy will be the same, don't worry!**

**Insanityisgood25: SPEW stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I wouln't be too hard on yourself, I think the full title's only mentioned once or twice in all seven books! ****I will say that I enjoyed writing the Doctor/Umbridge conflict. Umbridge's fate is very satisfying!**

**Henny14: 12 regenerations, 13 bodies, actually! ;) And like I said above, I have no doubt that we'll stop at the 13th Doctor. But the idea that, now the Time Lords are gone, the Doctor has unlimited/extra regenerations is only fanon. I won't endorse that theory until it is explicitly stated in the actual tv series.**

**Thanks! Updates are always four days apart, barring unforeseen events.**

**XDcat: Thanks! And you think my story's almost as detailed as the HP books? Quintuple thanks!**


	9. Confundus Charm?

**Chapter 8 – Confundus Charm?**

'_Encrypted signal detected. Decryption of signal...100% completed. Signal reads:_

"_Scout Ship 2 broadcasting encrypted message to Mothership and Invasion Fleet. Scout Ship 2 has crashed on the target planet of Sol 3, due to the regretful decision of plotting course through ring of small rocks. Power levels are recharging. Surveillance of area will begin once crew is revived. Scout Ship 1 remains undetected."_

_End Message._'

* * *

Weeks passed, and the weather started to cool down, welcoming in October. The Quidditch season had started, and the House teams were out practising at every opportunity. The Doctor, who liked taking evening walks around Hogwarts' grounds, would often see seven figures flying in the air above the Quidditch Stadium.

"Enjoying your time here, John?" asked a familiar voice from behind the Doctor as he stared up at the Gryffindor team's practise session. It was Dumbledore.

"Sorry?" asked the Doctor, slightly startled by Dumbledore's sudden appearance.

"Are you enjoying your time here? For a muggle, all this must be very overwhelming."

"Overwhelming? Ha!" the Doctor grinned, "It's very hard to find things that overwhelm me."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Spells, potions, flying broomsticks?" he offered.

The Doctor shrugged. "Seen them all. Well, except for the flying broomsticks, they're new. I've only ever seen pictures of them at the Academy, when we were covering the Carrionites. They, uh, used them to swoop down on their target and get a bio sample that they could use for their DNA replication modules."

Dumbledore gazed intently at the Doctor, his blue eyes appearing to penetrate deep into the Time Lord's skull. After a moment, he sighed.

"You're a very...unusual muggle, John," he said. "All that I know personally would have been overwhelmed by their experience. But you...you act like you've seen it all before."

The Doctor smiled sadly. "When one's over a millennium old, there isn't much left to see, is there?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's just...I look at a star, any star, and all I see is just a big ball of burning gas. I know how it began, I know how it ends, and I was probably there both times. I've got all of the universe as my backyard, but after a while it becomes just that: a backyard."

Dumbledore considered the Doctor's revelations. Was he really over a thousand years old? If he was, that would mean he was born several hundred years before Nicolas...but something didn't feel right. And he mentioned having the universe as his backyard... Was he a traveller from the future, who had arrived here by mistake? That would explain how his box was able to totally ignore Hogwarts' protective enchantments. But perhaps he was something else, perhaps he was a creature from anorther planet?

Something in Dumbledore's mind clicked. The meteorite. The blue box. John 'the Doctor' Smith. Were they all somehow linked? Only time would tell.

Putting these troubling thoughts from his mind, Dumbledore spoke once more.

"I must admit, John, that I was afraid your subject wouldn't be all that popular, but it appears as if the majority of students are enjoying your classes. I must congratulate you on this; you've put in a fine effort."

"Thanks. As I was telling - what was her name? The pink one? Dolores! - as I was telling Dolores the other week, I've only ever had one previous teaching job, and that only lasted a few days until I had to blow the school up. Well, until I had to tell a robot dog to blow the school up. Long story," the Doctor said hastily, noticing Dumbledore's expression of incredulity. "It's not something I make a habit of..."

Dumbledore asked another question that had been on his mind recently.

"I'm going to change the subject here, but Doctor who? I don't believe you've answered that. Properly, I mean," he said.

"Ooh, dangerous question," the Doctor grinned, and said no more, leaving Dumbledore to sigh in disappointment.

Dumbledore and the Doctor stood in silence as the landscape slowly grew darker. The Gryffindors finished their practice and began walking back up to the castle. As the group passed by the two teachers, Dumbledore said goodbye to the Doctor and went over to the Weasley twins. From what the Doctor could make out, Dumbledore was trying to find out what invention the twins were getting some first years to test. The Doctor laughed softly. He doubted that Dumbledore would get the information he wanted. Shaking his head in amusement, he too started making his way up to the school.

* * *

"You'll be fine, Ron. Just don't listen to what Malfoy and the Slytherins were singing. They're trying to unnerve you."

Back in the training rooms, Harry was desperately trying to cheer Ron up after the Slytherin's performance of 'Weasley is our King' during that evening's training session.

"Yeah. Whatever." Ron wasn't convinced.

Harry sighed. "Look, mate, I've done all I can. You just need some determination." He gathered his belongings and walked to the door. "I'll see you at dinner."

Ron watched as Harry left the training rooms. He knew that Harry was only trying to help him with his susceptibility to teasing, but his pride stopped him from taking his best friend's advice. He sat alone for a few more minutes before shaking his head in frustration. He got up, put his training robes away, grabbed his broom and started walking up to the castle, telling himself that he'd apologise to Harry as soon as he could.

* * *

The Skarasen's head and neck silently broke the surface of the lake. With a mechanical whir, its eyes scanned the surrounding landscape, eventually locking on to a lone figure walking close to the lake.

In the reconaissance ship, a visual link was displaying the Skarasen's view on a screen.

"It appears as if that creature is returning to the structure," observed the first alien.

"Yes," hissed the Commander. "We have scouted the area sufficiently; it is time to act. Capture the human!"

"At once, Commander."

* * *

_Grrr_

A low growl interrupted the peace of the night. Startled, Ron whirled around, wand raised.

"Hello?" he asked nervously. Memories of an encounter with a werewolf two years previously were still very prominent. "_Lumos_." The wand tip lit up, revealing the still surface of the lake.

_Grrr_

"Is that you, Malfoy?" Ron called. "You're not funny, you're just a coward as usual."

_Splash! _

A massive shape reared up from the lake and loomed above him. Ron hurriedly retreated, but tripped and fell to the ground, dropping his wand in the process. The wand's light cut out immediately.

"Come on, where are you?" Ron said desperately as he scrabbled in the grass, trying to find his wand. Suddenly, he was illuminated by a bright blue light.

"What the?" Ron said as he started to vibrate. He looked at his hand, and was horrified to find that it was glowing blue. "No!" he yelled, before his body disintegrated into thousands of blue sparks. When the blue light stopped a second later, Ron Weasley had disappeared.

Several minutes later, the blue light returned, and Ron's body quickly reformed from a cloud of blue sparks. He stepped forward and paused before bending down and retrieving his wand. Hesitating again, he then jerkily resumed his walk back up to the castle.

The blue light shut off yet again, and the creature that had emitted it sank silently beneath the surface of the lake.

* * *

Harry was worried. His best friend hadn't turned up for dinner, a fact that Harry found extremely odd, as Ron loved meals. Indeed, his appetite was famous throughout the school! Hoping that he'd be in the common room, Harry opened the portrait only to be disappointed. Sighing, he went over to Hermione, who was sitting at a table, writing furiously.

"You haven't seen Ron anywhere, have you?" he asked her, tapping her on the shoulder several times in an effort to get her attention.

"One moment," Hermione replied, not looking up. "Okay, done!" she exclaimed happily a moment later, turning to Harry with a piece of parchment in her hand.

"What's that?" Harry said apprehensively. "You're still curious about Professor Smith, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, and I won't be satisfied until he spills everything," she huffed. "Anyway, this is a list of everything I know about Professor Smith." She waved the parchment under Harry's nose. "Read it!"

Harry reluctantly took the parchment and began to read:

ooOoo

_Professor Smith – Facts_

_- Claims to be 1, 313 years old when he looks no older than 30. Did he use a Philosopher's Stone?_

_- Graduated from the Magical Scientific Institute of Brisbane 15 years ago. Is that even a place? And if so, Prof. Smith must be exceedingly smart to graduate when he was about 15.  
_

_- Has a strange instrument that has a green diode at its tip and makes a whirring sound when used. Prof. Smith claims that it is his wand_

_- Claims to have travelled forwards in time by using a 'wormhole' created by the 'Hadron Collider'. Do any of those things exist?_

_- Owns a blue box that he allegedly bought in 1963. Somehow, it can move. It can project holograms from both its keyhole and lamp. Prof. Smith calls it 'old girl'._

_- Teaches concepts about magic and gravity that are contradicted in all books researched. Is he a liar, or does he honestly believe he's right?_

ooOoo

"Really, Hermione, is all this necessary?" Harry groaned in exasperation. "Do you really have to know everything about him?"

"Absolutely!" Hermione replied. "I want to know where he got all these outlandish ideas from." She snatched the piece of parchment back.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, Ron walked in, detouring slightly by walking straight into the wall.

"You alright?" Harry asked, trying to keep the grin off his face. "Someone put the confundus charm on you?"

Ron ignored him and walked over to Hermione. "Hello, Hermione."

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said absently, now engrossed in her Ancient Runes homework. "Where have you been? We were starting to get worried."

"I have been talking to Fred and George about their use of the First Years as test subjects for their Skiving Snackboxes."

Hermione was surprised. "Really? It's about time you stepped up to your position as Prefect!"

"Sorry to interrupt your thrilling conversation," interrupted Ginny as she climbed through the portrait hole, "but I've got a note here from Professor Smith."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry said, taking the note. "Oh, great," he groaned a second later.

"It's our detention, isn't it," Hermione said gloomily.

"Yep. Eight o'clock, tomorrow night."

"Well, I have to say that it's about time! It's been weeks since he caught us investigating his box!"

"I suppose he must have been busy," intoned Ron. "I am going to bed. Goodnight."

Harry and Hermione stared as Ron lumbered up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

"I think someone's put a confundus charm on him," Harry said, concerned. "Probably a Slytherin hoping to ruin our chances of winning tomorrow's game."

"I hope he recovers quickly," Hermione said anxiously.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, before following his friend up the stairs to his dorm.

* * *

**Author Note: The Nicolas Dumbledore was referring to was, of course, Nicolas Flamel. And what's happened to Ron? Is he really under a confundus charm, or is it something far more sinister? **

**I'm happy to announce that the sequel finally has a title! Harry Potter and the Witch's Secret is currently 30 ,787 words long, with quite a few more to go. I can see it easily reaching 40k, but whether it does or not is another matter! So, what's the meaning behind the title? Let the speculation begin!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Insanityisgood25: Thanks! Yes, I imagine the look on the trio's faces would be great to see, they'd be simply dumbfounded!**

**Henny14 & twinpowersactivate: Thanks!**

**SoManyFandomSoLittleTime: I think he'd be a lot crankier if that were the case, actually!**

**Ace x Girl x Called x Ace XD: Thanks! I think that if the Doctor was very angry, he'd be more likely to do something horrible to whoever angered him. We'll see something like that happen later in the story, actually!**

**theunnamedGryffindors2: It's alright, technical difficulties happen all the time. And you didn't interrupt any of my daily activities either, so no harm done. Anyway: Don't worry, constructive criticism is always good, as it helps me improve! You've raised some good points, ones that I might have to address more in the story itself.**

** First of all, while it's true that Hermione is a muggle born and would have learnt about science (and gravity) in Primary School (the UK and Australian equivalent of Elementary School), she would only have learnt what gravity _is_, not how it works and what causes it. Therefore, when she reads about it in wizarding literature, she accepts the wizarding explanation for how it is created. As for her trying to prove the Doctor wrong, that comes from her very strong belief that books are always right, a theme that will continue through this story until its resolution in the sequel.**

**As for Ron: he is more open minded than Hermione, and is able to believe that books are not always right. It also comes down to the fact that it is unlikely he ever would have researched wizarding explanations of natural phenomena like gravity, and so never had the wizarding explanation enforced on him. Therefore, when the Doctor comes along and gives what sounds like a reasonable explanation (to him, at least), he goes with that, rejecting Hermione's position.**

**I hope that answered your questions!**


	10. Abnormality and Astronomy

**Chapter 9 – Abnormal Resistance and an Astronomy Lesson**

"Quidditch today!" Harry said excitedly, bolting out of bed. "You alright?" he asked Ron, who was sitting upright in his bed, gazing straight ahead.

Ron ignored him.

"Come on," Harry said encouragingly. "You just need a good breakfast."

* * *

Harry and Ron received a rapturous applause as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, which looked like a sea of red and gold. If Harry had thought that Ron's morale would be boosted by all the support, he was wrong, as his friend quietly took his place at the table.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing at his bowl of porridge.

"Porridge, of course," said Hermione, plonking herself down next to him. "What did you think it was, dog vomit?"

Ron frowned, but started to eat, shovelling mouthfuls of porridge into his mouth so fast that his cheeks began to swell.

Harry watched his best friend curiously. He'd been behaving oddly lately, but the fact that his atrocious table manners remained was a good sign.

* * *

"Okay, I've only just found out Slytherin's final line up," Angelina addressed the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the changing rooms twenty minutes later. "They've got two new beaters, some blokes called Crabbe and Goyle."

Harry's stomach plummeted. Not good news.

Angelina checked her watch. "It's time," she said in a hushed voice. "C'mon, everyone ... good luck."

The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched out of the changing rooms and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them, through which a faint chorus of 'Weasley is our King' could just be made out. Harry glanced worriedly at Ron, but the red head appeared not to have heard the song.

The Slytherin team was waiting for them on the field.

"Captains, shake hands," ordered referee Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Slytherin Captain Montague reached each other. "Mount your brooms..."

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

'_Good luck, Ron,_' Harry thought as he zoomed into the air, eyes darting all over the field, looking for the tiny glimpse of gold that would betray the snitch's position.

Fifteen minutes later, it was apparent (much to Harry's surprise) that his wish had worked; Ron had not let the Slytherin team score a single goal. This caused a domino effect, and boosted the whole team's morale, so much, in fact, that the Gryffindor Chasers were performing extremely well.

"And Gryffindor lead two hundred and ninety to nil!" roared commentator Lee Jordan, a smug grin splattered across his face. "Serves you right, you dirty little Slytherin -"

"JORDAN!" shouted Professor McGonagall.

Malfoy watched as Ron blocked yet another goal. '_How is that idiot doing it?_' he thought furiously. '_I have to do something!_' He flew over to Crabbe and Goyle.

"We've got to take Weasley out of action, he's _somehow _too good. Both of you hit the bludgers at him – no, don't argue, I don't care whether it's illegal or not, just do it!"

Leering, his two cronies nodded dumbly and flew off to intercept the bludgers.

_WHACK!_ Crabbe swung his bat at the first bludger, and it ricocheted off onto a collision course with the Gryffindor Keeper.

_WHACK! _Goyle diverted the second bludger, and together, they flew closer and closer to the crimson figure until –

_THUD!_ Both balls rebounded harmlessly of his chest and were sent flying back into the game.

* * *

Alarm bells went off in the Doctor's head. Ron should not have stayed on his broom after that double impact; it was enough to send anyone flying. The Doctor frowned; this would have to be investigated...

* * *

Malfoy gawked openly. '_How the hell did he stay on his broom?_' he thought in amazement. He was so distracted that he didn't notice Harry zoom past him, arm outstretched.

"Harry Potter catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins four hundred and sixty points to nil! Harry Potter catches the snitch while the Slytherin Seeker is too busy gawking at the Gryffindor Keeper! Gryffindor wins!" Lee cried triumphantly, his free hand punching the air.

"Damn!" spat Malfoy in disgust. He would pay Potter and Weasley back for this, no matter what the cost.

* * *

'_Ron's increased resistance to pressure has to be linked to the message the TARDIS intercepted,_' the Doctor thought on the way back up to the school. '_Has he been experimented on, or abducted? I'll have to do a little bit of investigating during his detention tonight._'

* * *

At ten to eight, Harry and Hermione dragged themselves away from the victory celebration in the Common Room to go to their detention. They waited patiently for Ron outside the portrait hole, as he was somewhat hampered in his efforts to escape by the fact that the rest of the House didn't want him to go. However, he did finally manage to extricate himself from Lavender Brown, and soon joined his friends.

"You alright, mate?" Harry asked as the trio made their way downstairs to Professor Smith's office.

"Yeah, I am now. I felt a bit woozy last night, but thankfully got better before the game."

"So...you don't think someone cursed you? With the confundus charm, perhaps?" Hermione said.

"Well, thinking about it, that probably did happen, but I can't really remember," Ron admitted. He scowled. "Probably Malfoy."

They arrived at Professor Smith's office several minutes later. Hermione knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Professor Smith's voice. Hermione opened the door and the trio entered. Professor Smith looked up from his work.

"Just preparing for our next lesson," he said, answering their unspoken question. "I'm sorry about the lateness of the detention, but I couldn't fit it into my schedule; stuff happened. Now, what we're going to do today is –"

"_Hem hem,_" coughed a familiar voice from the doorway. Harry, Ron and Hermione spun around in horror to see Professor Umbridge smiling triumphantly behind them.

"Oh, err, hello!" Professor Smith said brightly. "What are you doing here? If it's about the mental breakdown of Miss Oswin, well, she did ask about faster than light travel! I think my explanation of how it works might have been a bit too detailed," he added guiltily.

Hermione immediately resolved to research faster than light travel on the holidays. She had the feeling that Professor Smith was lying to this Oswin person as to whether or not it was possible.

"I'm doing my job, John," said Umbridge sweetly. "I heard that these naughty children had detentions with you tonight."

"Well, yes. But what's that got to do with you?"

Umbridge held up a piece of important-looking parchment and began to read. "Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five. The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, Order of Merlin, First Class, et cetera."

Harry struggled to comprehend this latest decree. "So you're going to make Professor Smith give us a worse detention than he would've normally?"

Umbridge opened her mouth to reply, but Hermione interrupted her.

"No, she isn't," she said, giving Umbridge a potent look of revulsion. "She's going to commandeer our detention herself."

Harry's heart filled with dread. The thought of spending another night of carving words into his own flesh was almost too much to bear.

Professor Smith stood up from behind his desk. "I can't let you do this, Dolores," he said, voice dangerously soft.

Umbridge looked up at him with an air of superiority. "Oh, and why not? May I remind you that you only just passed your Inspection? Hinder me now, and a 'probation' may just find its way to you."

"Inspection results don't matter to me, Dolores, but the safety and wellbeing of the students here do. I've heard rumours about what happens in your detentions, and I'm giving you one warning. Stop now."

Umbridge started at him determinedly. "And just who do you think you are to stop me? If you so much as scratch me, I'll have you sent off to Azkaban without trial!"

Professor Smith stared coolly back at her, and much to her surprise, didn't back down.

"The students of this school are not to be harmed in anyway; they are under my protection. There are just over a thousand students here that I won't let you hurt, but if you ignore me, go against my instructions in any way, then you'll have me to answer to," Professor Smith said warningly.

Umbridge regarded him carefully. "Who do you think you are, threatening me?" she sneered after a short pause.

"I'm the Doctor, Dolores, but I'm not threatening you, I'm warning you. Stop your torturing while you still can."

Umbridge drew herself up to her full height. "Very well," she sighed, taking out her wand. "You are on probation. _Stupefy!_"

A red light burst from her wand and struck Professor Smith in the chest, who immediately crumpled backwards into his chair.

"You attacked a teacher!" Hermione shrieked.

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Umbridge replied calmly, pocketing her wand. "You three, with me, now!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione reluctantly followed Umbridge out of Professor Smith's office, leaving the teacher in question unconscious on his desk.

'_I'm the Doctor..._' The thought echoed around Hermione's brain as she was lead to Umbridge's office. '_The Doctor? I think I need to take another trip to the library._'

* * *

"Okay, Hermione, we're here," Harry said to a huge pile of books in the Library the next day.

"Sit down," the books said impatiently.

Ron was confused. "Books don't talk, do they?"

Hermione's head appeared from behind the pile of books. "Honestly, Ronald, use your brains!" she said crossly, before lowering her voice. "I've found something about Professor Smith!"

In spite of himself, Harry was intrigued. "Really? Something that explains all you want to know?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, unfortunately, but it has gotten me a little closer to working out who he is. Do you remember what he said last night, something about a Doctor?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I looked 'Doctor' up in the library -"

"Surprise surprise," Ron said sarcastically. Hermione threw him a withering look before continuing.

"- And found a lot of interesting information. Here, read this." She passed Harry a book.

"Mysteries of the Wizarding World? I never knew you were into conspiracies, Hermione!" Harry laughed, amused by the book's title.

"Just read," Hermione said impatiently, pointing at a specific paragraph in a chapter titled 'The Doctor'.

Harry and Ron obeyed.

ooOoo

_Throughout Wizarding history, no myth or legend has existed or endured as long as 'the Doctor'. This mysterious figure has been present in many major moments in Wizarding history, including the first documented case of Lycanthropy and the formation of the Internqtional Statute of Secrecy. Both of these accounts, plus many more, will be analysed in detchapter subsequent pages._

_But who exactly is this 'Doctor'? The current popular theory is that he is a time traveller from the late Twentieth or early Twenty-First centuries. This theory is based purely on the description of his appearance, something that remains constant in all recorded sightings. 'The Doctor' is described as a young man, estimated to be in his late twenties, wearing what can be interpreted to be a jacket and bow tie -_

ooOoo

Harry looked up in shock.

"Jacket and bow tie?" he repeated. "But that's what Professor Smith wears!"

Hermione nodded grimly. "I know. Unfortunately, this book doesn't have pictures, so I'll have to find some elsewhere, just to confirm that it is him – ouch!"

She rubbed the back of her left hand tenderly, where the words 'I must not support those who tell lies' were faintly visible. "These cuts are taking ages to heal," she said bitterly.

"I bet Umbridge cursed her quill to make them hurt as much as possible," said Harry gloomily, rubbing his own wounds. "What about you, Ron?"

Ron showed Harry and Hermione his hand. "They healed ages ago," he said, shrugging.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Dunno," Ron replied, unconcerned. "Natural ability, probably."

Harry and Hermione exchanged suspicious glances before packing up and heading back to the common room.

"It's quite amazing, really, how often the Doctor pops up in wizarding history." Hermione explained more of her findings on the way. "There was another major sighting at Hogwarts, actually. According to the Founders' memoires, he was instrumental in making sure that Hogwarts was built next to a lake."

"Was that in 'Hogwarts: A History?'" Harry asked as they reached the third floor corridor.

"No! I'm surprised; I would've thought that the authors would have mentioned it ... but then again, the house elves aren't mentioned either. I wonder ..." she trailed off thoughtfully, before shaking her head. "Never mind. Anyway, for now, I'll just watch Professor Smith closely in class, see if I can get any extra details. Our next science lesson should be a good opportunity, we're starting a new topic."

* * *

"Hello, everyone!" said Professor Smith as he bounded into classroom six on Monday afternoon. Most of the class yawned in response. Professor Smith may have a lot of pent-up energy, but they didn't. Umbridge, who was standing in a corner, raised her pen, ready to take notes on her clipboard.

Malfoy raised his hand. "Sir, we aren't doing gravity again, are we? My brain hurts from the sound of your voice going on and on and on..."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered, but Professor Smith was unimpressed.

"No, Mister Malfoy, we're not doing gravity again, we finished that last lesson. No, today, we are moving onto the amazing, the wonderful Astronomy!" he cried, doing a silly twirl.

"But sir," called out Parvati. "We already do astronomy!"

Professor Smith's grin faltered. "Oh, yes, that's right. Professor Sinistra teaches it, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said apologetically. "We've been doing it since first year, so we know quite a lot."

"I'm not too sure about that, considering Aurora's knowledge of the Proxima Centauri system." Professor Smith muttered.

"What was that?" Umbridge said sharply.

"Nothing, nothing." Professor Smith grimaced. "Okay, so you know astronomy; let's have a test. Name two planets in the Isop galaxy?"

The class exchanged confused looks. The Isop galaxy, where was that?

"Which star, other than the sun, is the closest to Earth?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"Miss Granger?"

"Alpha Centauri, the star of the Proxima Cenauri system," Hermione reeled off.

The majority of the class rolled their eyes at Hermione's display.

"Very good, ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor Smith said happily. "Just out of curiosity, does anyone know how many stars are in the Proxima System?"

Hermione's hand was in the air in an instant.

"Just one, sir," she said, as if the answer was completely obvious. "Just one, everyone knows that!"

Professor Smith sighed and rubbed his forehead. "No!" he said irritably "As I keep trying to tell Aurora, Proxima Centauri is actually called Alpha Centauri C; it's the third star of a ternary star system."

The class exchange looks of surprise. They weren't sure they believed that, they'd have to ask Professor Sinistra during their next proper Astronomy lesson.

"Really?" asked Ernie MacMillan skeptically.

"Yep!" said Professor Smith, irritability forgotten. "In fact, in twenty eighty-nine, Alpha Centauri C was the destination of the first human light speed ship!"

Hermione made a mental note to remind herself that she had resolved to research faster than light travel.

"_Hem hem_," Umbridge coughed from the back of the class. "John, you may have forgotten, but it's only the fifteenth of November, nineteen ninety-five."

Professor Smith blinked and checked his watch. "So it is! Sorry, I'm not used to doing it in the right order! But anyway, ninety four years isn't going to make that much of a difference. I mean, all you are going to do is face the Oil Apocalypse, establish several manned bases on Mars..."

Malfoy groaned very loudly.

"Sorry, I'm rambling; happens when I'm excited, and I'm really excited now because I LOVE astronomy!" Professor Smith said, the epitome of an excited five-year-old. He went to one of the classroom's many cupboards and took out a small dome with a picture of the galaxy covering it. As the class strained their necks to get a better look at it, Professor Smith put it on his desk, took out his wand, pointed it at the dome, and pressed the button.

"Wow," the class breathed collectively. The dome had lit up and was now projecting a 3D map of the galaxy in the classroom.

"I know," Professor Smith said happily. "I don't need shoddy old telescopes, I've got the entire galaxy in the room!" He walked over to one of the galaxy's outer arms and pointed at a specific point.

"This is your solar system. Come closer, get a better look," he said, grinning at the class' stunned reaction.

The class moved close and noticed that next to Professor Smith's finger, tiny planets were orbiting around a large star.

"But that's the Earth!" said Lavender in amazement, seeing the little blue planet orbiting around the sun.

"Are we really that small?" asked Dean Thomas in wonder.

"Yep!" said Professor Smith. "So, now that you know where your solar system is, can you find the Proxima system?"

It took Hermione about half a second to complete the task.

"Here it is!" she said excitedly.

"It has got three suns! Professor Sinistra was wrong!" Susan Bones said.

Hermione looked at the Proxima System again and frowned. So, Professor Smith was right about the number of stars in the system...unless he'd faked the map of the galaxy. She mulled it over in her head; it was probably the latter.

"You know, I didn't realise that the Proxima System was so close to Earth," commented Anthony Goldstein.

"That's because, relative to the galaxy, it's not," explained Professor Smith. "The galaxy's a hundred billion light-years across; the distance from Earth to Proxima is only 56. Now, if you'll turn your attention to this star, its name is Sirius..."

As the lesson continued, Harry wondered if his godfather knew that he shared his name with a star. Luckily the holidays were only a few weeks away, so he wouldn't have long to wait until he could ask.

* * *

**Author Note: There's a series 7 Easter egg hidden in the chapter, see if you can find it! **

**Oh, no! The Doctor and Umbridge had an argument, and Umbridge won! Don't worry, there will be a round 2! **

**Part of this chapter will be referenced in the sequel, but which part that is, I won't tell!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**theunnamedGryffindors2: No problem!**

**shtoops: You did too, I'm sorry I didn't reply, I completely missed it! But yes, you are spot on. And the explanation for gravity is one I made up, it's not HP canon or anything.**

**Insanityisgood25: Thanks! Originally, Dumbledore was quite naive to everything going on around him, so I've definitely changed that. He won't get all his answers in this story; the big spill, where he and the other teachers learn everything, will happen in the sequel. The Doctor won't be happy about it, but events will force him and...another character...to explain everything.**

**Yes, forgetting about the detention is a very 11 to do!**

**Of course you have to wait for the sequel! I can guarantee that if you read the first few chapters now, you'd have no idea where the majority of the plot points came from!**

**Thanks!**

**TracyFace3 Thanks, that means a lot! Yeah, I like to focus on the description by visualising the scene I'm currently writing. So far, I think it's going well! And I'm doing a better job at being 11 than Matt? But - but - he _is_ 11! (Thanks anyway, though!)**

**Yep, this story will be updated once every four days, and will not be abandoned. Thanks again!**


	11. Disturbance at Grimauld Place

**Chapter 10 – Disturbance at Grimauld Place**

_He ran through Hogwart's corridors, his wand gripped firmly in his sweat-soaked right hand. He risked a look behind him, and was relieved to see that no one had followed him. He had lost them. Still, it was good to hide, just in case._

_He barged through the nearest door, which revealed a classroom, with Professor Smith sitting at his desk, blue box standing imposingly beside it._

_Professor Smith looked up. "Ah, Harry, what's the matter?" he asked._

_But he ignored the Professor, as the blue box had caught his attention. Staring intently at it, he walked towards the blue monolith. To his surprise, the doors burst open as he approached, and he stepped inside._

_The interior of the box was pitch black, and he looked around, disorientated. Suddenly, the empty void lit up, revealing some sort of tank containing a creature inside it. Curious, he approached the tank, trying to make out what it contained. It appeared to be something humanoid, but had the same orange colour as a squid._

_He blinked. The orange creature had transformed, and was now a mottled green snake. The glass cracked, and he hurriedly took a step back, but it was too late, The tank shattered, water going everywhere, and the snake leapt straight at him, fangs bared - _

"Argh!"

Harry woke with a start, breathing heavily as he stared into darkness. Ever since he'd first had the dream of a snake attacking Mr Weasley, the dirty beast had popped up in every dream since. But Harry knew that it wasn't the same snake. No, the latest one was simply a figment of his imagination. But why had Professor Smith and his blue box appeared? And what was that orange thing in the tank, the one that had turned into the snake?

Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe there was something weird with Professor Smith after all.

Harry took several calming breaths. '_I'm _not_ the weapon,_' he told himself determinedly, and lay back down on his bed, and was asleep within seconds.

When Ron woke him for breakfast several hours later, he didn't remember the dream at all.

* * *

Christmas Eve made Grimauld Place seem more alive than it ever had been. Sirius was singing Christmas carols at the top of his voice, and even Lupin was smiling continuously. However, Ron's recent behaviour had been very peculiar. Ever since Umbridge had comandeered his, Harry and Hermione's detention, he had been steadily becoming more and more distracted. He kept glancing behind his back nervously, as if expecting someone to be behind him, and even the smallest touch made him leap a metre in the air.

Everyone in Grimald Place had noticed this, but when they asked Ron if anything was wrong, he'd always assure them that he was perfectly fine, and that they should leave him alone. At first, they had honoured his wishes, but when it became obvious that his condition hadn't changed, Mrs Weasley put her foot down.

"Ron! I've got something for you!" she shouted one morning.

After five minutes, Ron finally appeared in the kitchen, but not before nervously sneaking a glance behind him.

"Yeah, what is it?" he asked.

Mrs Weasley put a smoking goblet on the table. "A calming potion. You've been so jumpy, I'm surprised you haven't left your skin upstairs."

Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Fred and George, who were in the kitchen playing Exploding Snap, sniggered.

Ron groaned. "I told you, mum, I'm perfectly fine!"

Mrs Weasley put her hands on her hips. "Don't lie to me, Ronald Weasley! You've been acting strangely ever since the the holidays began, so don't you try and tell me that nothing's wrong! Now, you drink this, or I'll charm your mouth open and pour it down your throat!"

Mumbling darkly, Ron reluctantly obeyed. He picked up the goblet and drained it, before swallowing. He visibly relaxed.

"There, that's much better, isn't it?" Mrs Weasley said kindly.

Ron nodded sleepily.

"Looks like mum's calming draught was too strong," Fred whispered. "Ron'll fall asleep!"

Mrs Weasley appeared to have noticed this as well. "Look at you, you're almost asleep! Why don't you gone on up to your room and have a bit of a lie down?"

"Sounds good, thanks mum," yawned Ron, and he turned and dragged himself up the stairs and out of sight.

"What's the bet he doesn't make it to his bed?" Ginny grinned, and the rest of the teenagers burst out laughing.

"None of that, thank you!" said Mrs Weasley sternly, her attention now shifted to them. "Ron's undoubtedly been under a lot of stress, Merlin knows we all have, ever since Arthur was attack - OH, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!"

Someone had rung the doorbell, setting off Mrs Black again.

"FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BLOOD TRAITORS, HOW DARE YOU SET FOOT IN THE HOUSE OF BLACK!" the portrait shrieked, her screams echoing downstairs into the kitchen.

"Shut up, you old hag!" came Sirius' voice a second later, and Mrs Black's shrieks ceased immediately.

"Merlin's beard, it's time for the meeting!" Mrs Weasley said. Time had gotten away from her, she'd been so worried about Ron. "You five better take that game up to the lounge room before the rest of the Order gets here."

"Can't we stay?" whined George. "I want to hear all about You-Know-Who getting his ar-"

"That's enough, now out!" Mrs Weasley interrupted, and directed them out of the kitchen.

Tonks, Kingsley, Mad-Eye and Lupin greeted them in the lounge room?

"Wotcher," said Tonks, her hair now a dark purple. "Sorry 'bout the noise, I keep forgetting not to ring the doorbell."

"Despite the many times I've specifically told you not to do so," grumbled Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's get this meeting started."

The adults quickly descended the stairs. Tonks looked back to give them a wink, and almost fell down the stairs in the process.

Grinning, Harry shook his head and turned to Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George.

"She's so forgetful," he said as Fred dealt a new round of Exploding Snap.

"Who cares, she's great fun," said Ginny. "I'd hate it if she had to leave for some reason, like if she was put on an assignment overseas."

"Yeah, the place would be a lot more boring if she weren't here," agreed George. "Mainly because she wouldn't serve as a distraction from King Prat."

"Percy?" Hermione asked.

"Percy, King Prat?" Fred said in shock. "How could you say such a thing?"

"But -" began Hermione, confused. The twins had always regarded Percy as being the biggest prat they'd ever known!

"Percy is Supreme Overlord Prat," finished George. "Ron's the King Prat."

"Oh, right," laughed Hermione. "You had me there for a second."

"D'you reckon that calming draught will work though?" Harry said worriedly.

"'Course, mum's potions always work," said Ginny. "Snap!" she proclaimed, banging her hand down on the pile of cards.

"Hey, that's not fair!" protested George furiously. "You had us all distracted, and -"

"Guys, shut up!" Harry said loudly. George and Ginny stopped arguing.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" said Fred.

"I swear I heard something, a sound sort of like what your old car used to make."

Everyone strained their ears. A faint wheezing, groaning sound could be heard from upstairs. The teenagers exchanged confused looks. What was that sound?

Abruptly, the sound stopped, and a faint _thud_ echoed through the house, rattling several pieces of crockery in their cases. The vibrations did not go undetected downstairs, and Tonks, Mad-Eye, Lupin, Kingsley, Sirius and Mrs Weasley came running back up the stairs.

"What's going on here? What was that thud? Did the cards just explode?" Mrs Weasley demanded, glancing at the game. The deck was unexploded.

All of a sudden, the came a series of grunts, and Professor Smith came tumbling down the stairs.

"Oof, ow, ouch!" he cried, sliding across the floor before coming to a rest at Sirius' feet. Sirius stepped back hurriedly and drew his wand, a movement copied by the other adults.

"Hello, Professor!" said Fred brightly.

"Professor?" Lupin said sharply. "You know him?"

"Of course we know him!" George continued. "He's a teacher from school!"

"Is this true?" Kingsley asked Professor Smith.

"Yeah," the teacher said, jumping to his feet and dusting himself off. "But hold the questions, you might want to step back a bit, I landed somewhere very unstable..."

With several loud _thuds_ and crashes, a blue box followed Professor Smith down the stairs, sliding across the living room and coming to rest next to Professor Smith, who patted it fondly.

Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Fred and George gasped as the deck of cards blew up, sending smoked everywhere.

"That's your blue box; how'd it get here?" Ginny coughed, waving her hand rapidly in order to clear the smoke obscuring her vision.

"Blue box, you mean that blue box?" asked Mrs Weasley, pointing at the object.

Mad-Eye, ever the hardened auror, reacted swiftly. "_Stupefy!_" he snarled, sending a jet of red light towards Professor Smith. However, the spell dissipated before hitting its target.

Everyone was too flabbergasted to speak, except of course, the science Professor.

"Sorry, forgot to mention that the blue box has a –"

"Shield charm," growled Moody.

"Shield charm," agreed Professor Smith. "No, hang on, no, not a shield charm!" he said a second later, realising his error. "It's not a shield charm, it's a -"

"Force field," he and Tonks said at the same time.

Every turned in surprise to look at Tonks, who shrugged.

"What?" she said. "My dad's a sci-fi nut, I know about this stuff. If it's not a shield charm, then it's obviously a force field."

She looked at Professor Smith. "If you're a wizard, why did you say force field instead of shield charm?"

"Because it's a surprisingly accurate description!" Professor Smith grumbled. "And a personal preference."

"You're a muggle?" Kingsley asked.

"No, of course not! I just like to combine magic and technology."

"And you made a box?" said Hermione, eyebrow raised.

"Yes...no. I, err, bought it, made modifications to it later."

Sirius began to get impatient.

"If you don't mind, err, Professor, but could you please explain what the hell is going on in my house!" he said irritably.

Professor Smith glanced one final time at Tonks before smiling. "Oh, nothing malicious. I was just tracking down a young Gryffindor by the name of Ron Weasley."

"Ron?" Mrs Weasley said sharply. "What do you want with my son?"

George rolled his eyes. "What do you think, mum, seeing as this guy's a teacher? No doubt ickle Ronniekins has been neglecting to do his homework."

"What do you teach?" Lupin asked suddenly, wand still raised. "Albus found a candidate for Defence, so what subject are you taking?"

"Science," Professor Smith said absently, taking out his wand and activating it, causing a green light to emit from its tip, and a whirring sound to fill the room.

"Come on, get a lock on him," he muttered, rotating his body until he faced the staircase that he'd fallen down earlier. "This way!" he declared, and rushed up the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going, sonny?" Mad-Eye snarled, hastening up the stairs as well. The remaining occupants of the room glanced at each other and followed the old auror.

"Don't disturb Ron, he's sleeping!" Mrs Weasley shouted desperately.

* * *

Ron had been feeling a lot more relaxed since being given the potion, but the sleepiness was just an act; he wasn't tired at all. He had just wanted an excuse to get back to his room. As such, he was lying contentedly on his bed when the door to his room burst open.

"Aha, I've found you!" cried Professor Smith as he bounded into the room.

"You!" Ron said in shock, instantly turning as white as a ghost. "What're you doing here?" he said, frantically scrambling back as far as he could go on his bed.

"Oh, nothing much, just scanning your biological signature for traces of Human DNA," Professor Smith said grimly, pointing his wand at the pale figure as the house's other occupants jammed in through the door way.

"Human DNA?" asked Hermione, who had managed to catch the end of Professor Smith's sentence.

"Yes. And," Professor Smith looked at his wand, "there seems to be none of it. Interesting..."

"No Human DNA?" Hermione shrieked. "But that's absurd!"

Professor Smith ignored her, instead crouching down to get level with Ron's wide eyes.

"Look, I know you're not human, and I also know about that message you sent to your mothership. Despite the fact that you've abducted and done Rassilon-knows-what to one of these tiny, fantastic people, whose shape you've stolen, I'm still willing to give you a chance. Stop your actions now. Give Ron back, and I'll let you go."

"Pah!" Ron spat, his demeanour changing completely. "If you saw the message, then you'll know all about the Invasion Fleet! This planet is pathetic ... Doctor!"

Professor Smith's eyes widened in shock.

"How do you know my name?" he said quietly.

"The human girl," Ron said contemptuously. "She's obsessed with you, and managed to pick up on your little lapse of concentration." Ron grimaced. "She thinks she's so smart, but she's nothing, even the very young of my species could outwit her."

"_Ron!_" Mrs Weasley said angrily. "How dare you speak about Hermione like that, stop this now!"

"Quiet, _Earthling_," Ron shouted, his body beginning to shimmer. "I've been stuck in this form for weeks, and while others may enjoy the experience, I detest it!"

Ron's features began to blur, his skin becoming darker until...

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" screamed Mrs Weasley, while everyone barring Professor Smith recoiled in shock.

"What the hell is that?" asked Kingsely.

Ron had been replaced with a large brown/orange creature. Standing at least six feet tall, the sides of its arms and legs, its central torso, as well as the top of its elliptical head, were covered with octopus-like suckers.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He had a suspicion that he'd seen something like it before, in a dream...

Unbeknownst to him, this thought was also echoed by Hermione and Tonks.

Professor Smith sighed and stood up. "It's a Zygon, from the planet Zygor, which was destroyed several thousand years ago in an interplanetary war with the Xaranti. Since then, they've been looking for a new home world." He turned to the Zygon. "I thought I stopped you back in nineteen seventy-five, after all that Loch Ness hullabaloo."

"So it was you!" the Zygon hissed, reaching for a device hanging on its back. "That was the original scouting party for Sol 3; I am a member of the second."

"And you're going to be the last. Look, I know you're looking for a new planet, just let me help you, I can take you anywhere you want -"

"We don't want your help, Doctor, we want this planet!" the Zygon cried, hurling the device at the floor.

Professor Smith looked in horror at the device. "Nerve gas grenade, everyone out!" he shouted urgently, but it was too late. The grenade exploded, sending out a cloud of gas that immediately rendered every human in the room unconscious.

Professor Smith, twitching slightly from the effects of the gas, stared determinedly at the zygon. "You know I'm going to stop you," he said, voice dangerously soft.

The Zygon grinned evilly. "I'd like to see you try," it said as it was enveloped in a haze of blue light and disappeared.

* * *

An hour later, Mad-Eye sat up, coughing. "Blasted gas, never seen anything like it before. Quicker that the quickest stunner, that was."

"Agreed," said Sirius painfully, whacking his left leg. "I've got stinking pins and needles now."

"Professor Smith – where'd he go?" groaned Harry.

"Never mind him, where's that _thing_," shuddered Ginny.

"Well," said George, dusting himself off. "We always knew that Ron was a big orange -"

"-Thing that looks like a cross between a sweet potato and an octopus," finished Fred.

"Give it a rest, you two, Molly's pretty upset," said Lupin, patting a distraught Mrs Weasley on the back. "It's alright Molly, Ron will be fine."

"But that, that _thing_ replaced him! How do we know that he's still alive?" Mrs Weasley wailed in despair.

Tonks was breathing heavily. "Why do I get the strangest sense of déjà vu?" she said. "I swear I've seen something like that before, in a dream."

"Me too!" Harry and Hermione said in surprise. All three glanced at each other, silently agreeing to discuss the topic later.

Kingsley shook his head. "Don't be silly, Tonks," he said gently. "Déjà vu creates false memories, you're imagining things."

"S'pose," Tonks said absently. She wasn't convinced.

Once the group had ascertained that everyone was unharmed, they descended the stairs to find Professor Smith sitting comfortably in a sofa, sipping a cup of tea while reading a book.

"'Bout time you lot showed up, I've been waiting ages," he said, discarding the book, and picking up another. "Hmm, not bad," he said, having flicked through the pages extremely quickly.

"Did you just read that entire book?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Yep," replied Professor Smith, unconcerned.

"Wicked," Fred and George grinned to each other.

Hermione frowned disbelievingly. "Rubbish," she muttered quietly.

"What are you still here for?" Lupin asked curiously. "You could've left ages ago."

"I did," the science teacher replied, draining his cup. "And came back. You can come up now, Mister Weasley!" he called loudly.

"Arthur?" asked Molly. "Is he healed? How did you-"

She was stopped by the sight of Ron standing at the top of the kitchen stairs.

"Is - is this the _real_ Ron?" Harry said quietly. Professor Smith nodded.

"Oh, RON!" Mrs Weasley shouted in joy, running forward to envelope her son in a big hug.

"Gerroff, mum!" the red head said grumpily.

Sirius sighed relief. "How'd you get him back, err?"

"Smith, Professor John Smith."

"How'd you get him back, John?"

"Just a quick hop to the Zygon ship. Took about an hour to find him, and another hour to get out, but we made it in the end." He stood up. "Now that you've got Ron back, I'll head off back to Hogwarts; gotta lot of planning to do for next term."

"Goodbye," he said as he shook the hands of everyone in the room. He lingered a bit with Tonks, but was soon standing just outside his blue box.

"Professor, you're not seriously going to get to Hogwarts in a _box_?" said Ginny, laughing.

"Why not? That's how I got here." Professor Smith said, indignant, and ducked inside, before quickly reappearing.

"Oh, by the way, Ron's got no lasting damage except for a memory wipe the zygons did after they interrogated him. Bye!" he said cheerfully, ducking back inside.

A few seconds later the box shuddered, before a wheezing, groaning noise began to emanate from it. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Tonks, Lupin, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Sirius and Mrs Weasley stared in shock as the box started to fade before their eyes. Within seconds, it was gone.

"Well," said Hermione in awe. "At least we know what the box does."

* * *

Harry, Hermione and Tonks didn't get a chance to discuss their mutual feeling of familiarity with the Zygons until dinner that night. All three volunteered to prepare dinner, a gesture that Mrs Weasley was hesitant to accept until Tonks assured her that she was quite a good cook. Mrs Weasley had relented and left the three to it.

"So, I take it you both had a dream about the zygon?" Harry asked as he peeled carrots.

"Mmhmm," Tonks nodded, flicking her wand and causing several potatoes to soar into the sink. "It's a bit hazy, but I remember that I was in my house when I heard a thumping sound from behind the bookcase. I went over to investigate it. I can't really remember much after that, but the next thing I knew was that I was awake with a mental image of the big orange thing on my mind."

"My dream was just me reading the Monster Book of Monsters," shrugged Hermione, cutting up the carrots after Harry peeled them. "I turned the page, and there it was."

"Mine was...similar," Harry said, after a short pause. "I, err, looked into the Mirror of Erised and saw it," he lied. For some reason, he didn't want to share his full dream, or at least as much as he could remember of it. He didn't really know why, he just wanted to keep thI details private.

Tonks frowned. "But what does it all mean?" she mused. "Having a dream off a creature that turns up later that day - it's not a coincidence."

"Definitely not," agreed Hermione. "Perhaps we're all Seers?"

Tonks burst out laughing. "Good one, 'Mione," she grinned, and Hermione smiled back.

Harry, on the other hand, followed a entirely different train of thought. It had just occurred to him that thir dreams might be similar to the one he'd had regarding Mr Weasley, that is, it could only mean bad news.

* * *

Ron shared his tale of what had happened to him over dinner an hour later.

"I was walking along the edge of the Lake just after Quidditch training, when I heard I growl," he said. "I thought it was Malfoy, so I went closer, but found myself immersed in a blue light. I felt ... I dunno, weird, as if something was pulling my body apart. I guess I must've fainted, 'cause the next thing I saw was Professor Smith waving his hand in front of my face."

"But what about this mind wipe?" asked Lupin, concerned. "Can you remember anything? Did they ask you about Hogwarts? About the Order?"

Sirius laughed. "Do you really think that these 'Zygons' are going to be in league with Voldemort?"

The Weasleys, Tonks, Kingsley and Mad-Eye shuddered.

Lupin frowned. "It's always a possibility, Sirius, you can't be too careful."

Ron shrugged. "Well, answering your question, I can't remember anything. Sorry," he said quietly. "Anyway, Professor Smith helped me out of my cell, and we ran around their base for ages, until we reached his blue box, then –"

"Yes?" asked Hermione eagerly, leaning forwards in anticipation.

"We got in it. He fiddled with some controls on a weird looking console, and two seconds later, we were here."

"Console? How could a console fit in a box?" asked Hermione.

"He's put an undetectable extension charm on the box, you can fit anything you want, as long as you don't take up all the space the charm grants," said Ron, unconcerned.

"Of _course_!" Hermione said. "It's so obvious, why didn't I think of that before?"

"Think of what before?" Mrs Weasley asked sharply.

Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.

"Well, we've been, err, curious about Professor Smith for some time." admitted Hermione. "He's basically going against everything we've been told! He says that magic isn't caused by the blood, that gravity is naturally occurring...all sorts of rubbish."

Mrs Weasley was shocked. "How can Dumbledore possibly allow him to teach if he's feeding misinformation? I'm going to have a word to him next time I see him!"

"Mum, no one apart from Hermione and a few Slytherins have any problem with him," Ron said crossly. "Hermione's just jealous because she's met someone smarter than her, not to mention the fact that she doesn't want to admit that her beloved books are wrong."

"Ron!" Hermione shouted. "I do not think that books are unquestionable sources of fact, it's just that what Professor Smith says is so blatantly false!"

Silence.

"How do you know that?" Ginny asked quietly.

"What?"

"I said, how do you know that? You can't be making assumptions based on nothing; you have to have a starting point."

"I – well, books, of course! And -"

"Did it ever occur to you that books are wrong, Hermione?" Sirius said softly.

"Yeah, remember Lockhart?" said George. "That slimy git pretended that he'd done everything that he'd written."

"It's not just books!" Hermione said impatiently. "It's common sense too! I mean, no one is over a thousand years old, you can't travel into the future by using a wormhole, it's all rubbish!"

"Actually, you can create a wormhole," said Tonks, grinning. "You do it by using a particle accelerator, but you need an extremely powerful stabilising agent, and even then it'd only last long enough for one person to get through."

Everyone stared at her.

"What?" asked Tonks innocently, before realising that Hermione was shooting daggers in her direction. "Oh, fine, I got that one from a movie. Sorry, 'Mione, I just couldn't resist!"

"Good one!" Fred mouthed, giving Tonks the thumbs-up.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shot Tonks a foul look before continuing.

"Err, well, yes. Professor Smith said he'd used a wormhole to go to the future after the 'Hadron Collider' had created one. But this Collider just received financial backing from Japan. It isn't even operational yet!"

"Alright, that's enough!" Mrs Weasley said, seeing Ron open his mouth to argue. "You all need to get a big sleep, we're going to see Arthur tomorrow, and I don't want you to be tired. Off to bed!"

The children grumbled, but complied.

Sirius waited until the children had moved out of ear shot before speaking.

"Should we tell Albus?" he asked.

"About the Professor Smith and that zygon? Yes," said Tonks.

"Why not both?" Kingsely mused. "He'll want to know."

"Maybe we should wait to see if anything else happens first," mused Lupin. "I mean, he'll already know about the teacher, if that story is true, and no one would believe us if we told him we'd just been visited by a humanoid squid."

"All the same, we need constant vigilance!" growled Mad-Eye, his fake eye spinning wildly. "I think we should tell him as soon as possible."

Lupin sighed. "Fine, we'll do it when we next see him."

The other adults murmured their agreement.

* * *

Everyone who had been in Grimauld Place that day slept well that night. Everyone, save for one person. For some reason, that person's dreams were filled of nursery books and toddlers...

* * *

**Author's note: Ooh, whose dreams were filled of nursery books and toddlers? And what significance (if any) does it have to the plot? Why was that person's dreams filled with nursery books and toddlers? I can say that there is one word, just one, in this chapter, that explains it. See if you can find it! If you can, then I applaud you, for your DW knowledge is astounding!**

**Replies to reviews:  
**

**Miyu Hinamori: Yep! If he went after her, she'd probably get him chucked out, so he could do a lot more by remaining. He has got a strange message to investigate! The book only has 11 because 11 was the first Doctor to discover the magical community. There's a bit of time travel involved; he hasn't experienced the events that the book describes yet! (*cough* Part of the Sequel *cough*) Yes, the easter egg isn't hard, it wasn't meant to be, but I thought I'd bring attention to it in case some people missed it the first time.**

**shtoops: Unfortunately, the Doctor wasn't pretending. He really _was_ knocked out by the stunning spell.**

**Kaioo: Funny you should mention that...**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: Yep, you're spot on! And remember, each of Clara's echoes had to save the Doctor...what could that mean for this story? And yes, one stunner and the Doctor's out. Upsilon radiation happens to be one of the types that Time Lords aren't immune to, though it does affect them to a lesser extent than humans. The stunner only knocked him out for about two minutes though, it didn't take him long to recover. Don't worry, he will scare Umbridge when they have their next confrontation!**

**TracyFace3: Oops, bit of a misunderstanding, then! But yes, that is my goal. Thanks!**

**TheBleachDoctor: We're getting there, we're getting there!**

**Insanityisgood25: Hmm indeed! ;) There will be a duel (of sorts) when they have their next major clash. I suppose I let the Doctor get knocked out to show that he's not invincible, and that he's especially vulnerable against experienced witches and wizards. It also serves to raise the stakes for their next confrontation, too! **

**In the original, the staff only learn that Professor Smith's name is actually the Doctor. In the sequel, however, he'll be forced to explain quite a bit more than that...I don't want to say too much, obviously!**


	12. Barty Crouch Junior

**Chapter 11 - Barty Crouch Junior  
**

Mrs Weasley's raised voice greeted Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George as they entered the kitchen two weeks later, on the last day of the holidays.

"...can't let them go, they'll be in grave danger. Ron was kidnapped and replaced with an alien, and now this!" she shouted.

"Now what?" asked Fred innocently, plonking himself down in the seat next to Sirius, who was looking at Mrs Weasley tiredly.

"It's the paper, Molly, and, given the current climate, you know they'd do anything to taint Dumbledore's record. I wouldn't be surprise if all this was concocted by Fudge to give him an excuse to interfer further at the school."

"But what if it isn't? What if there is a real danger?"

"It happened to Ron only; one person out of a thousand. And please, Molly, remember that Dumbledore did promise to look into the situation. He won't brush it under the carpet."

Thoroughly confuse, Harry scanned the table for anything that would shed some light on the debate Mrs Weasley and Sirius were having. His eyes soon found the morning's edition of the _Daily Prophet_, which had a headline that screamed:

**MYSTERY: HOGWARTS STUDENTS HAVE DISAPPEARED! MINISTRY AND SCHOOL ARE INVESTIGATING!**

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny exchanged glances. All knew what everyone was thinking; the Zygons were undoubtedly responsible.

* * *

Sirius, with the help of Mr Weasley, Tonks and Lupin, eventually managed to convince Mrs Weasley to let the children return to Hogwarts. They would be travelling via the Knight Bus, a fact that greatly concerned Harry given his past experiences with the method of transportation.

The actual journey itself was only a few minutes long, but even so, no one spoke a word. Harry was certain that they were al, thinking the same thing: whether or not the rumors about disappearing students were true.

Upon arrival at Hogwarts a few minutes later, their worst fears were confirmed. There was a conspicuous lack of students wandering the hallways and corridors of the school, and a number of students looked lonely without a friend by their side.

Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, silently resolving to talk to Professor Smith about the disappearances as soon as they could.

* * *

"Where is he?" moaned Malfoy as the class waited outside the science room the next day. "It's the first day back and he's _late_? Come on!"

"You were saying, Mister Malfoy?" Professor Smith said, popping his head through the doorway. "Sorry I'm late, I've been filling out Miss Oswin's paperwork, she still hasn't recovered from that mental breakdown after she asked me to explain faster than light travel in as much detail as possible. She'll recover...I hope!" He gulped. "Anyway, come in, come in."

He stepped back and allowed the class to take their seats. Once they had done so, he sprinted up to the front of the class and whirled around.

"Ooh," he frowned. "Where is everyone? I'm not that bad, am I?"

"You haven't seen anything?" Terry Boot said disbelievingly. "You've been at the school all holidays and you haven't seen a thing?"

"No..." said Professor Smith. "Should I have? Why, what's wrong?"

"People have disappeared, Professor," Parvati said sadly. Lavender's absence from the adjacent seat was very noticeable. "No one knows where they've gone."

A shadow briefly flickered across Professor Smith's face, but he covered it with a smile.

"Right, today, we're moving onto the Andromeda galaxy, the closest spiral galaxy to ours. There are around one trillion stars in it, that's more than double the amount in the good old Milky Way..."

The class was very taken aback and the sudden switch from disappearances to Astronomy, but nevertheless found themselves engaged in the lesson very quickly. By the time the class had almost finished, student disappearances had been driven from their mind by a much more alarming fact.

"The Andromeda galaxy's moving towards us!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked in alarm.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about, though. It won't be here for another few billion years, so you'll all be well and truly dead by then," Professor Smith said reassuringly as the bell rang.

"We asking him, then?" Ron asked as the class began packing away their parchment and quills.

"Of course," Hermione said. "We'll just wait till everyone's gone."

A minute later, Harry, Ron and Hermione nervously approached Professor Smith's desk.

"Err, Professor?" Hermione said tentatively.

Professor Smith looked up. "Yes?" he said. "No questions about faster than light travel!" he added hurriedly. "Miss Oswin's case was bad enough."

"Oh, no, it's not about...that," Hermione said reassuringly. "It's just that we, um, wanted to talk to you about the disappearances of the students andi whether or not the Zygons were behind it..."

Professor Smith sighed. "Yes, the Zygons are probably behind it," he said wearily. "They're probably doing it to gather as much information about your species as possible, so they can find better ways of killing you."

"Yes," he added, seeing the trio's horrified expressions. "If the Invasion Fleet gets here, that's what they'll do."

"Now," Professor Smith said. "You all need to forget all about me and leave me alone. My enemies have a habit of getting to me by hurting people I know, and I don't want that happening to you three. If you keep trying to investigate me, talk to me, contact me in any way that isn't related to school work, the Zygons will find out, realize that we're close, and then, in all likelihood, kill you."

Ron snorted. "How would they even find out that sort of stuff? We're inside Hogwarts, for Merlin's sake!"

"And the Zygons have replication technology, Mister Weasley," Professor Smith said cuttingly. "Anyone here could be a Zygon duplicate."

"Yeah, well, we've survived against the odds before," Ron shrugged.

Professor Smith gathered some papers from his desk and stood up. "Not against these kinds of odds, you haven't," he said, walking up the stairs to his office.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Harry.

"Leave me alone before it's too late," answered Professor Smith, and he walked into his office and closed the door.

* * *

The trio returned from dinner that night to find a reminder that the next Hogsmeade trip was scheduled for next week.

"Cripes, I'd completely forgotten about that!" exclaimed Hermione upon seeing the note. She turned to Harry. "Harry, you won't be doing anything important next weekend, will you?"

Harry blushed. "Well, err, I'mkindagoingonadatewithCho," he mumbled.

"Sorry?"

"I'm going on a date with Cho," Harry said, looking determinedly at his shoes.

"You – what?!" spluttered Ron. "When did this happen?"

"We err, arranged it before the holidays," Harry replied, grinning bashfully.

Hermione beamed. "That's wonderful!" she said encouragingly. "But I'm really sorry; I need you to meet me in the Three Broomsticks at around midday. Would that be alright?"

"I dunno," Harry said. "I'm not sure that Cho'd appreciate it, being our date and all."

"Well, bring her along too, if you must, this is really, really important," Hermione said forcefully.

"Fine," Harry glumly agreed. "We'll be there."

Ron was more sceptical. "What's so important that Harry needs to interrupt his date for? Surely you can wait!"

Hermione sighed. "If you must know, I've organised an interview with Rita Skeeter, so that Harry can get his version of events out there."

"Rita _Skeeter_? The one who kept publishing lies about you and Harry last year?" Ron exclaimed, eyes wide. "Are you mad?"

"No," Hermione said indifferently. "But the fact that I know that she's an unregistered animagus has its...benefits."

Harry groaned and sank further into his seat. The thought of an interview with Rita Skeeter did not appeal to him one bit.

* * *

The Hogsmeade apparition zone was setup in order to leave the residents and shoppers of Hogsmeade to go undisturbed by people appearing and disappearing with a loud _crack_ in the middle of the street. As such, when Rita Skeeter arrived for her interview, she had to walk a mile to the actual village, passing the Black Lake along the way.

'_Foolish girl_,' Rita thought as she followed the winding path. '_She thinks she can blackmail me. Me! Just wait till I turn the tables on her, she won't know what hit her_.'

Rita's contemptuous thoughts continued, distracting her so much that she didn't notice a large reptilian head rear out of the lake beside her. In fact, she was only realised something was wrong when she was bathed in a blue light.

"What the hell?" she said as she started vibrating, dropping her handbag. Before Rita could process this, her body disintegrated into thousands of blue sparks. Everything went black.

A minute later, Rita appeared on the shoreline, in the exact spot that she had disappeared from. Hesitating briefly to pick up her handbag, she soon resumed her walk down the path to Hogsmeade.

* * *

"Cho's not here," Hermione noted as Harry said down at the table she shared with Luna.

"Yes, well," Harry said miserably. "It was a disaster."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but upon seeing the look on Harry's face, she decided not to pursue the subject.

"Hmm, Rita's late," she frowned.

"She better be coming, Hermione. I didn't screw up my date for nothing."

"She promised she'd come!" Hermione said quickly. "I even told her that if she didn't come, I'd tell the Ministry about her secret."

"Ooh, what secret?" asked Luna eagerly, just as Rita walked in the door.

"Right, what do you want?" she snapped, sitting down at their table.

"For starters, you can be polite," Hermione said coldly.

"Why? I'm not normally polite, so why should I start now? I'm only here because you blackmailed me; I've every right to be rude," Rita replied cuttingly.

"Fine, but tone it down a bit, please, or the deal's off," Hermione said irritably.

"What deal?" said Rita. "You haven't mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days ..." She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Yes, yes, one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry and me," said Hermione indifferently. "Find someone who cares, why don't you?"

"They've run plenty of horrible stories about Harry this year without my help," said Rita, shooting a sideways look at him, and adding in a rough whisper. "How has that made you feel, Harry?"

"Why ask when you could just use your limited psychic ability to probe his mind and get the answers?" interrupted a familiar voice.

"Excuse me?" said Rita, looking up. Harry, Hermione and Luna followed her gaze to see Professor Smith glaring down at them, holding a weird device that kept going 'ping'.**  
**

"Hello, Professor!" said Luna brightly.

Professor Smith ignored her. "Psychic ability, all Zygons have an extremely low-level telepathic field, but it's still strong enough to look into a human mind," he said.

"Professor, what are you doing here?" hissed Hermione. "We're trying to conduct an interview!"

"Well, by all means, continue," Professor Smith said, sitting down in the table's last vacant seat. "I've always wanted to get the juicy details about a Zygon's life."

Rita rolled her eyes. "Zygon, what in Merlin's name is a Zygon?" She turned to Hermione. "Do you really believe this lunatic? I'm most certainly not a Zygon, whatever that is."

"I believe him," said Luna dreamily, catching everyone by surprise. "You seem...different, somehow. Maybe these will help." She took out her spectrespecs and put them on.

"Well, you are...different, Ms Skeeter," Luna said in surprise, staring at the journalist through the brightly coloured glasses.

"Give me a look," said Hermione, and she all but snatched them from Luna and jammed them on. "Ah!" she screamed in shock, drawing reproving glances from the pub's other patrons.

"She's a Zygon!" Hermione trembled, pointing at Rita, who sighed.

"Fine, you've got me, I am a Zygon," she admitted.

Professor Smith leaned forward, looking at her coldly. "What are you doing here, and how did you know to capture the woman you're impersonating?"

'Rita' rolled her eyes. "As if I'll tell you that, Doctor," she spat, demeanour changing completely. "Why would I hand over our advantage?"

Professor Smith sat in silence for a moment before replying. "Why are you abducting students? Where are you taking them? What have you dohe with them?"

'Rita' sneered at him, but said nothing.

Professor Smith's eyes narrowed. "I'm giving you one more chance. Tell me, now."

"Never," 'Rita' hissed.

Professor Smith sighed, took out his sonic screwdriver, pointed it at 'Rita', and pressed the button.

As soon as the screwdriver's tip lit up and the whirring sound began, 'Rita' started shimmering.

"What are you doing?" she shouted, standing up.

"Just disabling your replication field," Professor Smith said coolly. "No more disguise for you, I think."

A second later, 'Rita' had been replaced with a seething Zygon.

The other patrons of the Three Broomsticks didn't immediately notice the orange figure, but when they did, it was complete and utter pandemonium. Tables were overturned, butterbeers and firewhiskeys spilt as most of the patrons immediately started running to the door, but a few took out their wands.

"_Stupefy!_" they cried as one, and the red bolts of radiation sped towards the Zygon, only to be absorbed with no ill effect.

"What the hell?" said one of the wizards who'd attacked the Zygon. This gave the Zygon a chance, and it immediately darted forward with surprise speed and whacked the wizard aside.

"Stop, stop!" Professor Smith cried, jumping in front of the Zygon, arms raised. The Zygon swung at him, but Professor Smith ducked. He felt a painful tug on his head as the zygon managed to grab a handful of his hair. Quickly moving backwards, he stood up and turned to the patrons of the Three Broomsticks. "Don't hurt it, just leave and let me deal with it!"

"Are you crazy?" said a witch.

"No, please, just listen to me!" Professor Smith said desperately. "Go!"

"Fat chance!" said the witch. "That thing could be dangerous!"

Blue sparks clustered around the Zygons, causing the onlookers to shriek anew. Professor Smith whirled around and groaned.

"It seems as though I am about to depart," said the Zygon. "Before I go, though, Doctor, you may want to know that the Invasion Fleet will be here in a few weeks - and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

Grinning evilly, the Zygon vanished along with the blue sparks.

Professor Smith sighed, hit the device in his hand, and walked out of the pub without another word.

Harry, Hermione and Luna hastened after him, leaving the adults to clean up.

"Professor, what is that thing going 'ping'?" Luna asked.

"A Winklegruber neural parameter predictor," Professor Smith explained crossly. "It predicts that neural capacity of whoever you point it at. It's how I knew that woman was a zygon."

He rounded on Harry and Hermione. "See what happens when you associate with me?" he said furiously. "The Zygons went after you! I don't know how they knew - or where and when to go - but the fact is that youwere in danger!"

He's stalked off without another word, the Winklegruber neural parameter predictor's 'pings' echoing behind him.

As Harry and Hermione made their way back to Hogwarts some time later, they both realised that what Professoe Smith said was true: associating with him was dangerous. Maybe they should stay away from him after all.

* * *

Professor Smith ran through the corridors of Hogwarts. He was late for a staff meeting, which had been called by Umbridge five minutes ago. He kne it was unreasonable that Umbridge should expect him to get to the staff room from the first floor in five minutes, but then again, it was Umbridge.

All the teachers were already in the Common Room by the time he arrived.

"You're late, Mister Smith," said a man in a bowler hat whom Professor Smith didn't recognise.

"Sorry," he replied. "Clara Oswin's paperwork is still taking ages. Not that it really matters now; she left the Hospital Wing earlier today, completely recovered."

Dumbledore moved to introduce the bowler hat man. "John, this is Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Cornelius, this is John Smith, our science teacher."

"Pleased to meet you!" Professor Smith said, walking over to Fudge and giving him his signature air-kiss.

"Ah, well, moving on," Fudge said, flustered. "Dolores, you mentioned something about Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, Minister. It has been brought to my attention that was a disturbance in The Three Broomsticks at around midday yesterday," Umbridge said.

"What's that got to do with us?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"I was getting there, Minerva," replied Umbridge reprovingly. "According to eye-witnesses, three Hogwarts students, a teacher and Rita Skeeter were involved."

"No doubt that Potter, Weasley and Granger were the three students," said Snape drily. "But who was the teacher?"

"Well," said Umbridge smugly. "Professor Smith matches the description given to me."

Everyone looked at Professor Smith.

"Is this true, John?" Dumbledore asked.

Professor Smith sighed. "Yes yes, it's true," he admitted.

"Would you care to enlighten us as to what occurred?"

"Potter, Granger and Miss Lovegood (he shot Snape a 'you-were-wrong' look) were in The Three Broomsticks meeting Rita Skeeter for some reason. I walked in just in time to see Ms Skeeter attempt to attack Granger, and interfered. Unfortunately, Ms Skeeter escaped."

"Thank you, John," said Umbridge. "It is interesting to note how much your version of events differs from the version my informant gave me. Apparently, Rita Skeeter turned into an orange creature after _you _pointed your wand at it. When patrons attempted to attack it, you told them to stop and ordered them to leave. However, the creature disappeared before anything else could happen, and you stormed out immediately afterwards." Umbridge's eyes bulged triumphantly. "This means that _you _caused the entire disturbance by illegally transfiguring a respected journalist!"

Professor Smith was sunk, and he knew it. There was no way he was getting out of this one without explaining everything, and even then it was very likely that he wouldn't be believed. Grimacing, he decided to go clean.

"Okay, you've got – ouch!" A stab of pain shot through his forehead.

"Anything wrong?" asked Snape smoothly.

"No, I'm fine, I'm completely – OUCH!"

Everyone stared as Professor Smith doubled up in pain, clutching his forehead.

"What the devil's wrong with him?" said Fudge, slowly backing away.

"Severus, Minerva, Filius, do you have any ideas?" said Dumbledore.

"No," McGonagall and Flitwick said together, frowning.

"Not at all, Headmaster. He could be faking..." suggested Snape.

"Does it look like he's faking to you?" asked Madam Promfrey as Professor Smith let out another yell. She rushed over to him, taking something out of her pocket. "Quick, drink this, it'll ease the pain!" she said urgently, shoving a bottle full of a dull red liquid under his nose.

Professor Smith took one look at it and recoiled. "No, that won't help, nothing will!" he panted. "The problem's temporally based; someone's interfering with my timeline! OW!" he yelled, making everyone jump.

"What's he saying?" asked Fudge, clueless as ever.

"Something about his own timeline, whatever that means," Umbridge frowned.

"Poppy, take John to the Hospital Wing now!" Dumbledore ordered.

Not wasting time to reply, Madam Pomfrey took out her wand. "_Stupe –_"

"NO, don't do that!" Professor Smith gasped, eyes wide. "Someone's managed to get their hands on a time reverser; it's reversing my timeline so that I become younger! Their eventual aim is to make me so young I can't pose a threat! They must have got the required bio-sample from me in The Three Broomsticks – the hair!" he said, realising in horror that the Zygon had managed to get a clump of hair from him as he ducked under its arm. The air around him began to shimmer. "Stay back!" he warned.

The occupants of the room watched in horror as Professor Smith disappeared behind a cloud of golden energy.

"ARGH!" screamed Professor Smith. It was agony, pain far worse than any regeneration he'd experienced.

"Can't we do something?" sobbed Professor Sprout, who was almost in tears.

"Like what? We don't know what we're dealing with!" Professor McGonagall said sadly.

The crowd watched with a mixture of horror and awe as the golden mist thinned slightly. Behind it, they could see a figure writhing in agony, but it didn't look like Professor Smith. Instead, it looked like...

"Merlin's beard!" gasped Fudge. "That's Barty Crouch!"

"How can it be?" shouted McGonagall over Professor Smith's screams. "He had his soul sucked out!"

"It doesn't matter, he's still a dangerous criminal!" replied Fudge, bristling with anger. "Dolores, when this gold stuff dissipates, immobilise him!"

"Yes, Minister!"

Suddenly, the golden mist-like substance disappeared.

Professor Smith blinked. "That wasn't meant to happen," he said, before collapsing on the floor, unconscious.

"_Incarcerous!"_ chanted Umbridge, and ropes flew from her wand and wrapped themselves around Professor Smith, binding his hands and feet together.

"Take him to Azkaban," Fudge ordered.

"WHAT?" McGonagall exploded. "You're not even going to give him a trial?"

"I seem to remember he's already had one, Minerva, and was found guilty," said Fudge loudly.

"Minister, it might be ... prudent to interrogate him before sending him off to Azkaban, after all, who knows what ... condition he'll be in when he's there?" said Snape.

"Yes yes, alright," Fudge said begrudgingly. "Severus, fetch some Veritaserum, Dolores, take Barty down to the dungeons for interrogation. The rest of you are no longer required, thank you."

"But -" protested McGinagall, but she was silenced by one look from Dumbledore. Pursing her lips, she, along with the other teachers, followed Umbridge and Snape as they levutates Professor Smith between them and left the room.

Dumbledore sighed in relief.

"Don't think this is over yet, Albus," Fudge said triumphantly. "The fact that an extremely dangerous criminal managed to infiltrate your staff and go undetected for over five months, and has succeeded in abducting students right under your nose – yes, I know about that – speaks volumes of your ability to lead this school. I hereby relieve of your duties, appoint Dolores Umbridge as Headmistress of this school, and place you under arrest for negligence of duty!"

Dumbledore, however, was unfazed. "Ah yes, I was afraid this was going to happen," he said calmly. "But I ask the question: how do you intend to arrest me?"

Fudge realised that he'd foolishly sent everyone except Dumbledore out of the room.

"Oh," he said stupidly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Goodbye, Cornelius," he said as Fawkes the phoenix appeared above him in a fiery flash. Dumbledore grasped Fawkes' leg and disappeared with the phoenix in a second bright flash.

**Author Note: Dumbledore's gone, and the Doctor's been degenerated and now looks like Barty Crouch Junior? What will happen next?**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Insanityisgood25: I decided to cut it from this version, as I wanted to focus more on Harry and co at Grimauld Place. It also leaves the details of how the Doctor managed to rescue Ron to the imagination of the reader, something I think works for the best.**

**Considering that the story's an AU of Order of the Phoenix. I felt I just had to have a chapter set in Grimauld Place, which meant that a lot of people would see the Zygon. There are..other reasons as to why so many people got to see it, too...**

**I like your suggestions for Harry's dreams, but unfortunately that's not the direction I'm going with. You'll find out why the dreams are happening later in the story.**

**Thanks! And yes, the sequel thing will tie up a lot of loose ends, even the ones that people haven't spotted yet. I will say that the previous chapter was quite pivotal in where I'm taking the story and the sequel. In other words, it was the point of no return!**

**shtoops: Sorry for ignoring your head canon! :p I'm afraid to say that, as much as we'd like him to be, the Doctor isn't immune to everything, and Upsilon radiation is something that can hurt him! I'm still deciding how Hermione will finally come to realise that the Doctor was telling the truth. The beginning of the universe sounds good, but I'd prefer something related to the wizarding world, so that Hermione would be affected more strongly.**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: Yes, I'd say Hermione is at the obsessed fanatic stage right now. She really wants to find out who Professor Smith is, it's really bugging her. Astheirs chapter revealed, she didn't see the Doctor degenerate (it sounds good to me!), but she will come across him when he's 10. It'll take quite a lot to get her to believe that 10 and 11 are the same person!**

**Nursery books and toddlers...I'm mean! One word out of about 4900...quite frankly, I'll be astounded if anyone gets it. I might tell you all what the word was when the story's finished; it'll give you something to think about while you wait for the sequel.**

**Unfortunately, no, 9 won't be appearing, though him calling Umbridge a stupid ape does sound very appealing!**

**Regarding Tonks and her sci-fi references, I just had to! She's cool, she makes jokes, and she likes to annoy others. What better way to get her to annoy Hermione by giving her an explanation of how to make a wormhole that she got from a movie? I'm very glad you liked it!**

**TracyFace93: Doctor/Umbridge confrontation coming soon! Hmm, sounds interesting. I'll see if I can work it in to the story some how, but I doubt I'll be able to. If I do manage to, however, it won't be Hermione, I've already got her 'arc' planned out.**

**Whovian123: Thanks! The story's set before Series 7, so the Ponds are currently preparing for their contrived divorce that should never have existed in the first place. :)**


	13. Azkaban

**Chapter 12 - Azkaban  
**

Dolores Umbridge cancelled the levitation charm on Professor Smith the moment she reached the dungeons, not caring whether the person in question suffered any pain when he woke up.

"What are we going to do with you?" Umbridge muttered to herself. "In my opinion, the dementors are too nice. We need to make you suffer!" Her face twisted into a cruel grin, just as Snape walked in.

"Severus, do you have the veritaserum?" Umbridge asked, hastily removing the grin from her face.

Snape nodded.

"Very well. _Ennervate!_" Umbridge said, pointing her wand at Professor Smith's prone form.

Professor Smith's eyes snapped open.

"Ow, did someone drop me? 'Cause my back's really sore," he said, wincing. "Err, why am I tied up?" he asked, noticing the ropes binding his hands and feet.

"Severus, the potion," Umbridge said. "Mister Crouch, have you ever heard of veritaserum?"

"Crouch? Who's Crouch?" Professor Smith asked, confused. Snape uncorked the bottle and moved towards Professor Smith.

"It's a truth potion!" Umbridge almost laughed. "Soon, you'll be telling us everything we need to know, whether you like it or not!"

Professor Smith's eyes went wide. "No, you really don't want to do this – glug!"

Snape took the initiative with Professor Smith's open mouth, and poured three drops down his throat. Professor Smith shuddered uncontrollably for a minute before going still.

"Who are you?" Umbridge demanded.

"Professor John Smith," Professor Smith said tonelessly.

Snape frowned. "Are you Bartemius Crouch Junior?"

"No."

"Do you know of anyone called Bartemius Crouch?"

"No."

Snape grabbed Professor Smith by his shoulders and forced him against the wall. "You are recognisably Bartemius Crouch Junior, yet you deny the fact. So tell me, how are you resisting the effects of Veritaserum?"

"I'm not."

"He needs a more concentrated dosage, Severus!" Umbridge cried. "Give him all of it!"

"Such an act is extremely dangerous, Dolores. Veritaserum is toxic when consumed in large amounts," Snape replied.

"I don't care, do it!"

Gritting his teeth, Snape reluctantly obeyed, unstoppering the bottle and pouring the entire contents down Professor Smith's gullet.

"Are you Bartemius Crouch Junior?" Snape asked again.

"No."

"Why are you kidnapping students at Hogwarts?" Umbridge said.

"I'm not."

"Are you in league with the Dark Lord?" Snape said quietly.

"No."

"How did you survive the dementors?"

Professor Smith said nothing.

Umbridge frowned.

Snape suddenly realised that he was most likely facing the man who gave him, Dumbledore and McGonagall the information on the Dark Lord's activities during 1994 and early to mid 1995. He also realised that if this information was repeated to Umbridge, the foolish woman would have no choice but to accept the truth. Asking him to repeat everything that was said that night would also have the added effect of proving whether or not the man was Crouch.

Despite the fact that Snape had no idea what had happened to John in the staff room, he still believed that the science teacher was Crouch in disguise. The chances that some magic could change a person's entire physical appearance to match that of a highly dangerous Death Eater were extremely low.

"Repeat everything you told Dumbledore the last time you were under the influence of veritaserum," Snape said after a lengthy pause.

"I've never been under the influence of veritaserum before."

Snape looked at Professor Smith disbelievingly. Despite the odds, it had transpired that John Smith - if he still was John Smith - was not Bartemius Crouch Junior. This both relieved him and worried him at the same time. No, Barty Crouch wasn't responsible for the disappearing students. But if that were the case, then who was?

He sighed and turned to Umbridge. "Dolores, it is quite obvious that this man, despite his appearances, is not Barty Crouch. I suggest that -"

"You will suggest nothing!" cried Umbridge. "Your potion is not strong enough, he is resisting it!"

Snape ignored the very strong urge to roll his eyes. "I have already used the entire potion on him. We are lucky he is not dead. Three drops is usually sufficient."

"The whole potion is not good enough! We need more!"

"Certainly," said Snape. "However, considering its ingredients and brewing time, I shall have it ready in about a month."

"You are deliberately hindering me!" shrieked Umbridge, pointing an accusing finger at Snape. "You are on probation!"

Snape simply raised an eyebrow, but Umbridge wasn't watching him. She was muttering somthing that sounded suspiciously like 'Destroy Dumbledore's legacy...blame it all on him..."

"I have decided to send him off the Azkaban regardless," she said eventually. "Even if he is 'John Smith', then he is clearly a lunatic and needs to be isolated. We can blame the disappearing students on him as well, just to clean up loose ends."

Snape rolled his eyes. "As much as I admire your logic, Dolores," he said softly. "I can't allow you to pervert justice in this way. You are not going to do anything with him until the Headmaster has been consulted."

"I don't think your precious Dumbledore will be Headmaster for much longer, Severus," Umbridge said smugly. "In fact, knowing Cornelius' plan, he's probably halfway to Azkaban now, which is where this man is going." She pointed at Professor Smith. "Don't argue," she said sharply, seeing Snape open his mouth. "Albus may have forgiven your history, but I may be less inclined. Leave now and you won't end up in Azkaban either."

Snape's expression at that moment rivalled the death glare of a Basilisk.

'_This woman needs to be put away. Permanently_,' he thought to himself. He was very tempted to stand and fight, but he decided that, if this old toad was in charge, he could serve Hogwarts better by remaining.

"Very well," he said curtly, and left the dungeon, heading straight for Dumbledore's office.

"Oi, don't I get a say in this?" Professor Smith asked.

Umbridge turned in shock.

"How did you throw off the effects of veritaserum? It lasts for five hours!"

Professor Smith shrugged. "Dunno," he said evasively. In reality, he had only pretended to be subjugated by the potion after the first three drops; although he'd never been administered the potion before, truth drugs from anywhere in the universe were remarkably similar, so mimicking the effects of veritaserum had been relatively easy. Everything he had said after Snape had emptied the entire bottle down his throat, however, was completely influenenced by the potion. Luckily, thanks to his Time Lord metabolism, the potion had cleared his system in minutes.

"Well, in that case, _stupefy!_"

The beam of red radiation knocked Professor Smith out instantly.

"Finally, some peace and quiet," Umbridge muttered. "_Portus_," she said, pointing her wand at a candle. As it briefly glowed blue, Umbridge grabbed Professor Smith's unconscious body before taking hold of the candle and disappearing.

* * *

"Wonder what that staff meeting was about yesterday," Harry said as the trio walked down to breakfast the next day.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it's something to do with what happened in the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said sullenly. "I'd bet everything that Umbridge has got spies in Hogsmeade to keep an eye on students –"

All three froze in the doorway to the Great Hall. Umbridge was sitting in Dumbledore's chair, an extremely big, smug grin splattered across her toad-like face.

"What's she doing there?" Ron croaked. "She's...she's not Headmistress is he?"

"I think we'll find out in a minute," said Hermione quietly as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

Once the entire school was seated, Umbridge gave her stupid little cough.

"_Hem hem_. Now, as you all may have noticed, Professor Smith is not here today. This is because he is currently in Azkaban, after I escorted him there last night."

Silence.

"He was last night revealed to be an escaped lunatic in disguise, who had been abducting students from this school." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I know that many of you children will not believe me, but both myself and the Ministry have only your best interests in our hearts, and it was in your best interests that he was removed so quickly."

"NO, YOU LIAR!" Harry bellowed, standing up. "YOU'RE MAKING IT UP!"

Ron and Hermione groaned.

"Detention every evening this week, Mister Potter! I will not be interrupted," Umbridge declared triumphantly. The Slytherin table burst into laughter.

Fury boiled up inside Harry. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked desperately. "He'll put a stop to all this nonsense!"

"Albus Dumbledore is no longer the Headmaster of this school!" Umbridge said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear. "He was relieved of his office after the revelations concerning Professor Smith. I am his replacement."

At this, the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables entered a full scale riot. Students roared in anger, upsetting the golden plates and cups as they demonstrated their hatred of this development.

"SILENCE!" Umbridge shrieked, letting off several _bangs_ from her wand. "That's better," she said sweetly. "Now, let's get straight into the new rules shall we? I am here to look after you in a safe environment. Unfortunately, the holidays remove you from this safe environment, putting you danger from uncountable, small, trivial things. As only the Slytherins are capable of coping with dangerous environments, I hereby _cancel_ all holidays for every member of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Students in those houses will not be allowed to go home until they have finished Seventh Year, when they are capable of dealing with the outside world.

The populace of the Hall sat in silence, too stunned to do anything about the drastic change in regime. Even the teachers were too surprised to say anything, a fact they would come to regret.

"School is a place where we learn how to get along with each other despite our differences. To encourage this, Gryffindors will now share all classes and a Common Room with the Slytherins, and the Hufflepuffs with the Ravenclaws" Umbridge continued. "This is because Slytherin House and Hufflepuff House are exceptional at co-operation, and can pass their skills on to the other houses."

"Mister Filch is hard pressed to deal with school discipline, and has asked me to ensure that the Slytherins help him deal out detentions and punishments. I have agreed to his proposals. Finally, anyone who so much as whispers anything about a dark wizard having returned to this country will find themselves in detention, with me, every night for the rest of their time at Hogwarts."

"And now," said Umbridge happily. "Let's move on to the more basic and trivial matters..."

Harry sat in despair as he listened to Umbridge drone on and on about the new rules. '_This isn't Hogwarts,_' he though angrily. '_This is a totalitarian dictatorship_!'

But there was absolutely nothing he, or anyone else, could do about it.

* * *

A thousand miles away, in the middle of the North Sea, Professor Smith lay in a cell in Azkaban, forced by the power of the dementors to relive his worst memories.

oOo

_He stood, crying softly, holding his daughter close, as they carried his wife away. His darling, beautiful wife had finally lost her battle with post-regenerative decay._

_"Goodbye, dear," he said tearfully, before losing control of his emotions. He turned and sobbed into his daughter's shoulder._

FLASH

_He stood in front of the TARDIS console, looking up at the scanner screen, his hands hovering over the controls. Ian and Barbara stood behind him, observing silently._

_"Goodbye, Susan. Goodbye, my dear"_

_He began the dematerialisation sequence, barely holding back the tears as he watched Susan's nervous face fade from the scanner screen. He knew that it would be a long time before he returned, if he did at all. That fact broke his hearts._

_FLASH_

_"Please hurry, Doctor! We must get Adric of the Freighter!" Nyssa cried._

_"I'm trying, but the console's damaged!" he replied, desperately trying to get the TARDIS to respond._

_"Look!" Tegan said, pointing at the scanner screen._

_He and Nyssa turned; to their horror, the scanner screen showed the Freighter heading straight for Earth._

_"Adric!" Nyssa shouted in horror._

_With bated breath, he, along with Nyssa and Tegan watched as the Freighter grew smaller and smaller..._

_A small flash of light burst from the Earth, a visible shockwave._

_Nyssa and Tegan turned to him, to shocked to speak. He swallowed heavily, there was nothing he could do. Adric was dead._

_FLASH_

_The Matrix display screen faded to black, but it's final image - of a bald Peri clutching her head - lingered on in his mind. But it wasn't Peri, it was Kiv in her body, her brain swapped for his._

_He looked at the Inquisitor, still not quite convinced that what he had just witnessed had occurred. You killed Peri!" he choked._

_The Inquisitor stared back at him, her eyes emotionless. "We had to act."_

_He couldn't help it; he turned and ran from the courtroom before he broke down completely. _

_FLASH_

_His eyes snapped open, and he stared up at the face of the doctor. He knew immediately where he was: an operating table, undergoing surgery to remove the bullets from the shooting. No doubt they had found some trace of his binary vascular system and mistaken it for something else. He had to warn them! And the Master, he had to stop him as well!_

_He grabbed the doctor's arm. "Whatever you're about to do, stop!" he said urgently._

_The doctor slapped his hand away. "Mister Smith, you'll be all right," she said reassuringly._

_"No. I'm not human, I'm not like you!"_

_"Nobody is, Mister Smith," the doctor replied absently._

_"Please, I need a beryllium atomic clock. This is 1999, isn't it?"_

_"We can't wait any longer, Grace," another doctor said._

_With a sense of horror, he watched as a mask was lowered over his face. "No! I'm not human, I'm not human!" he cried desperately, pulling the mask off his face._

_"Try not to speak, Mister Smith. We've already taken out all the bullets, now we're going to listen to your heart, and try and find out why it's so wild, then I'm going to fix it. You'll be fine," the first doctor said as the mask was moved back into position._

_He sat up, making all the operating staff jump back in shock._

_"Timing malfunction!" he breathed. "The Master, he's out there! I've got to stop him!_

_He mentally screamed in horror as he was pushed back down, and the mask once again placed over his face. He had to stop them, they'd kill him if they weren't careful. And the Master, he had to stop him, had...to...stop..._

FLASH

_They tore down the corridor as fast as they could, her hand gripped firmly in his. Finally, the battered blue exterior of his TARDIS came into view._

_"Almost...there," he panted, turning to look at Romana, who smiled in relief._

_"Stop them!" cried a voice from behind them. They turned quickly, only for their hearts to plummet. Rassilon was on their tail._

_Guards burst into the room, firing their stasers._

_He and Romana sprinted the short distance to the TARDIS, where they would be protected by its force field. He reached inside his jacked for the TARDIS key, took it out, and fumbled for the lock._

_"What're you going to do?" Romana asked him._

_"I've got something called the Moment," he said, his eyes flickering over her head as he kept an eye on the approaching guards. "It will Time Lock the whole war, trapping everything inside. I'm going to hook it up to the De-mat gun and use it to destroy everything."_

_"But you can't!" Romana said, horrified._

_"I have to!" he shouted. "If I don't, Rassilon will destroy the entire universe; I have no choice! What I have to do, I do in the name of peace and sanity."_

_A staser bolt collided with the TARDIS' shields._

_"Let's go," he said hurriedly, attempting to push Romana into the TARDIS._

_Romana glanced back at the guards, they were too close._

_"No, Doctor," she said. "The guards are too close. They'll force their way inside before you can dematerialise."_

_His eyes went wide. "No, what are you -"_

_"I'm staying," she said firmly. "I'll buy you some time, distract them."_

_"No! Please, Romana, I'm about to kill everything in the war, I can't kill you too!" he said desperately._

_"Goodbye, Doctor," she said gently._

_He relented, recognising a lost cause. "I haven't been the Doctor," he said, giving her a sad smile. "Not since I regenerated."_

_And with that, he turned and entered the TARDIS._

* * *

With a start, the Doctor woke up. Breathing heavily, he looked around, only to see the damp and dark conditions of his cell, and the occasional dementor glide past his door.

"This must be Azkaban," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "But how'd I get here?"

"Can't you remember?" asked an unfamiliar Scottish-accented voice from the back of his cell.

Professor Smith looked up and frowned. "Who're you?" he asked cautiously.

"Who do you think?" the voice said wrily.

"Not a clue," Professor Smith said. "You've got a Scottish accent, like Amy, like Jamie, like my seventh self..." he trailed off. "No!" he said disbelievingly. The voice wasn't that of his seventh self, and he hadn't had another body with a Scottish accent, so that must mean he was about to meet a future incarnation!

"Yes," answered the Doctor, stepping from the shadows.

Professor Smith looked up at himself. His future self's hair was short - though not as short as his ninth self's - and grey. His face was lined with wrinkles, but the eyes were bright and full of a keen energy.

"What are you doing here?" he said crossly. "You're violating the First Law of Time!"

The Doctor ignored him. "You still haven't answered my question, you know," he pointed out.

"Blimey, I get older and ruder," Professor Smith muttered. "And I see we're still not ginger."

"Enough of my appearance, okay?" the Doctor scowled. "I'm only here because I remember being you seeing me telling me that I was only here because I remembered -"

"Yes, alright," said Professor Smith hastily, seeing that his future self was quite prepared to continue the infinite loop of time travel. "And to answer your question; I remember being knocked out, but the next thing I remember is being dragged to my cell. So whatever brought me here didn't take long, a brief exposure to charged particles, like a stunning spell, would've only knocked me out for a minute at best."

"That toad faced woman brought you here via portkey," the Doctor explained. "It's a method of magical transportation that uses objects to take you somewhere, generally long distances."

"How do you know that?"

The Doctor sighed. "Like I said before, I remember being you watching me tell you that you got her via portkey, which is a method of magical transportation -"

"You know, you could've just said wibbly wobbly, timey wimey," Professor Smith complained. "Blimey, old, rude, grey and grumpy!"

"Whatever," the Doctor said, and he glared at his past self before tapping a device wrapped around wrist. "Vortex manipulator, use it to get out of here," he said shortly. "I wait for the TARDIS to pick me up."

"Vortex manipulator? Is it River's?" Professor Smith asked.

"Yep, she's dead, doesn't have any use for it now."

Professor Smith frowned at his future self's lack of compassion for River's fate, but pushed the thoughts aside.

"Right," he said, "so I get the manipulator and go back to Hogwarts, while you sit here and wait for River to pick you up?" He paused, thinking. "But how do you have her manipulator if she's not dead yet?"

"Different points in her timeline," the Doctor said, as if it were obvious. "But she's not picking me up anyway, someone else is."

"No, wait, don't tell me," Professor Smith said. "Spoilers, right?"

"Yeah, the usual," the Doctor said. He took off the vortex manipulator and gave it to his past self. "Oh, and remember to come back and rescue yourself after your trip to Panem."

Professor Smith grimaced. "Panem. I've only been there once, and I don't want to go again."

"Tough," said the Doctor rudely. "You'll get there whether you want to or not."

Professor Smith rolled his eyes and entered Hogwarts' co-ordinates on the manipulator. "Alright, I look forward to being you! Allon -" he cried, pressing the button.

He disappeared, the teleportation cutting his final word short.

The Doctor groaned loudly and sat down in the cell. "Young maniac," he muttered.

* * *

Two weeks later, conditions at Hogwarts had drastically worsened thanks to Umbridge's new regime. She now had total control, and the only thing stopping her from going further and making slaves out of everyone but the Slytherins were laws set down by her beloved Ministry. In reality, the laws only stopped her from making _official_ slaves out of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, they were essentially slaves anyway, or in legal terms _unofficial_ slaves. In other words, the amount of work required was astronomical. Students weren't taught anything with much substance thanks to the new Ministry curriculum dictating that only simple, non-offensive spell and potions be taught. The homework amount for the Gryffindors was humongous, and was made worse by all the cleaning duties they were also required to complete. The worst thing about the current situation was, however, the fact that Umbridge insisted that all the extreme rules she had introduced were for their own good, a rhetoric repeated by the Ministry.

The teachers and many parents had protested very vocally about the changes, but their calls for common sense and logic had fallen on deaf ears. If any members of the wizarding community had read political literature like George Orwell's 1984, they would have realised that the Ministry was well on its way to becoming a totalitarian form of government. The censorship and extensive control of education was the first step, and the Ministry had just taken it.

"I wish we could go home," moaned Ron as the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs lined up by the Lake for their daily inspection early one morning.

"Shut it!" whispered Hermione. "You know that we can't go home until we've finished Seventh Year!"

"And by that time, Umbridge'll probably have managed to find away to make me her personal pet," Harry said miserably. "For some reason, I wish Professor Smith were here."

"Having fun, Potty, Weasel, Mudblood?" asked Malfoy as he walked up to them. "Oh, and you're all clean too! How'd you manage to escape all the new additions to your classmates' bodies?"

Corporal punishment had returned with Umbridge, and it was made worse by the fact that the Slytherins were in charge of it. There was barely a person without some sort of physical injury, but somehow, the trio had managed to escape the whips, stocks, thumbscrews and the like, mostly be keeping their heads down and going unnoticed. However, as Malfoy leered at them, Harry sensed that their luck had run out.

"Oh look, Potty, your hair's not combed. Weasel, you've got dirt on your face. Mudblood...you're a mudblood, that's a good enough excuse. All up, I think that's fifty lashes each, and a week in the dungeon."

Ron muttered some words that would make even the most hardened sailor wince.

"Hmm, that's a _public_ lashing for you, Weasel!" Malfoy said gleefully. Grabbing hold of Ron, he dragged him out to the front of the assembled students. "Permission to give Weasley a public lashing?" he asked Umbridge eagerly.

Umbridge smiled. "You know you don't need my permission, Draco," she purred. "Just make sure that you -"

But what Umbridge wanted Malfoy to do, no one ever knew, for at that moment, a great pulse of compressed air threw everyone to the ground.

"What was that?" Malfoy shouted, pushing himself up.

_Brrrrrrrrrr!_

A weird, droning sound began, and the grassy patch to the left of the assembled crowd was flattened. Students and teachers exchanged looks of confusion. What was causing the grass to behave so inexplicably? They got their answer when the ship that had just landed turned off its camouflage circuits.

Surprisingly, no one panicked. Instead, on Umbridge's hushed orders, Malfoy and several members of the Inquisitorial Squad cautiously approached the craft.

"What the hell is that?" asked Goyle.

"How should I know, idiot?" retorted Malfoy as a door in the craft opened with a pneumatic hiss.

The Inquisitorial Squad hurriedly retreated as a figure exited the craft. Malfoy, ever the coward, pushed Crabbe forward.

"Talk to it," he whispered. Crabbed gulped and nodded.

"Hel, hello?" he said tentatively.

"You are not a zygon," said the creature, stepping out of the shadows. Crabbe's eyes went wild and he tried to run, but his feet seemed rooted in place with fear. "You are a human," continued the creature. "All humans must be obliterated!"

And without another word, the zygon raised a weapon and shot Crabbe at point black range. Crabbe sank to the ground, staring at his hand as it cracked and dried.

"What have you done?" he managed to gasp through his parched throat. Turning, he gave Malfoy one last anguished look before his body and robes fell apart, leaving only a few bone fragments on the ground where he once stood.

Silence.

The panic began. Students ran everywhere, trying to get back to the Castle while the teachers quickly put up some shield charms and began to retreat, backing away from the ship, wands raised. More zygons emerged from the ship and began firing into the crowd. Students, despite their teachers' best efforts, fell to the ground, clutching their stomachs as their bodies dehydrated and disintegrated.

As soon as the pandemonium started, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand.

"Come on," he said urgently. "We can't stay here; we need to get to the forest!"

"What about the Castle? That's where everyone else is!" Hermione said, almost in tears.

"That's where those zygons'll go too, trust me," he said, dodging through the crowd of students, teachers and zygons.

"But we can't just leave everyone!" Hermione said desperately. "What about Ron? Ginny? Fred and George? What's happened to them?"

"I don't know," Harry replied through gritted teeth. Only one thing was certain: the Invasion Fleet had arrived.

* * *

**Author Note: The Invasion's here! How will the Doctor stop it? If he does, what will the cost be? All will be revealed in the coming chapters!**

**I hope you enjoyed the cameo of 12, and the flashbacks to moments I deemed to be among the worst in the Doctor's life. (Obviously, the one with him crying because of his wife's death, and the one where he's escaping Gallifrey are ones I made up.) And no, before anyone asks, I don't think Rose's departure comes anywhere near a worst moment. If she had been sucked into the Void (which she should have) then it would'ver been a different matter...no one likes seeing their friends die.  
**

**Replies to Reviews:**

**Insanityisgood25: No problem! Yeah, when writing the original, I figured if you cross Harry Potter and Doctor Who, you have to mention/feature Barty Crouch somehow. So, as much as I don't like 10, I put him in.**

**Dimmitri Darkson Makros: A version of her is a student at Hogwarts, yes. Whether or not we'll actually see the trio and her interact is another question!**

**TracyFace3: Degeneration. I hope the veritaserum scene met your expectations! Thanks!**

**transformers907: No, no main characters will be killed off this time. I agree, it wrecked HP canon (as if the story hadn't done that already!), but there's also the fact that both of the main characters I killed off last time are pivotal to the plot of the sequel!**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: Don't worry, I don't claim to have invented it, all credit goes to you (for its definition in the context of the story)!**

**I can very easily imagine 12 as a sarcastic, no-nonsense Doctor, and I tried to emphasise the no-nonsense aspect in his cameo. Obviously, I can't write him accurately until he's had an episode or two, but it'll do for now.**

**As for Clara, you got it in one!**

**Snape's absolute trust in veritaserum meant he very quickly realised that 10-who's-also-still-technically-11 probably wasn't Barty. Umbridge, on the other hand, didn't care, just as long as he went to Azkaban.**

**Ms. AJ Ninja: Updates are every four days. And you're cheering because the degeneration was a great plot twist, right? Not because 10 turned up?**

**Nat Anne Cullen: Thanks!**

**My Spirit is an Arctic Fox: I like cliffhangers. Cliffhangers are cool! ;) This chapter should have answered all your questions, I hope you were satisfied!**


	14. Three Way Battle

**Chapter 13 - Three Way Battle  
**

Several hours later, Harry and Hermione were sheltering in the forest, flinching as the occasional scream interrupted the silence of the early afternoon. Harry was leaning against a tree, slowly tearing up leaves.

"How long d'you reckon we've been here?" he asked. Time seemed to have no meaning anymore; the seconds blurred into minutes, the minutes into hours. For all he knew, they could have been there for days.

"Four hours at least, probably more," Hermione answered, dispelling the notion of timelessness. Unlike Harry, she found that she couldn't relax, and had been walking in circles for most of their time in the forest. She shivered. "Those zygons are the foulest creatures on earth!"

"Except they're not from earth, are they?" Harry noted drily. Hermione shot him a death glare before continuing.

"Crabbe's dead, that's certain. I thought I saw Ernie go down too, but Padma's body blocked my view..."

Harry threw the remains of his current leaf away. "Why are you counting how many people died? Is it so important?" he asked furiously, standing up.

"Yes, yes it is!" Hermione sobbed. "I just need to reassure myself that it wasn't Ron, or Ginny, Fred or George who were killed!"

Harry took a breath and pulled Hermione into a hug. "I know, I worry about them too, but there's nothing we can do."

"If only Professor Smith were here," Hermione said miserably into his shoulder. "Going on what I've read about him, he's very good at this sort of thing."

_Bang!_

Harry and Hermione let go of each other and whirled around, expecting to see a zygon, but the surrounding landscape was empty of any discernible humanoid shape; the forest gloom made it hard to see anything further than thirty meters away.

"Hello?" Harry asked nervously, taking his wand out, an action echoed by Hermione.

"-Sy!" groaned a voice from nearby.

Harry and Hermione hastened over to the source of the sound, pushing through several coarse bushes. To their surprise, they found a man dressed lying facegrounding the leaf litter. Glancing at each other, Harry and Hermione pulled him up. He was fairly tall, and had spiky brown hair. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties, and was dressed in clothes that Harry recognised as the attire worn by the occupants of Azkaban.

"Ugh, vortex manipulators: cheap and nasty time travel," the man complained, stretching furiously. "For some reason, that was a lot worse than the last time I used it. I wonder why?"

Harry frowned at the man, he reminded him of someone...

The man strolled up to him, hands in pockets. "Well now, Mister Potter, what's going on?" he said, looking at Harry expectantly.

Harry's memory clicked, and he immediately recoiled. "Get away from me, you murderer!" he shouted. "You're Barty Crouch!" He pointed his wand at the man's face.

The man sighed. "No, Harry, I'm not, trust me!" he said urgently. "I'm Professor Smith, but someone's reversed my timeline so that I look like my previous incarnation. I'm also starting to act more like him again," he added thoughtfully.

"You're lying," Harry said immediately.

The man rolled his eyes. "I'm Professor Smith, I've been your science teacher for a good six months. My real name is the Doctor, and we've faced two zygons together, one of which was pretending to be your friend Ron Weasley. Happy?"

Harry kept his wand raised, but looked uncertain.

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "Crouch had his soul sucked out, remember? No one can survive that. This man – Professor Smith – looks like him, but isn't him."

"Fine, explain," snapped Harry.

The man sighed and scratched his neck. "Well, I'm an alien," he said bluntly. "And instead of dying, I change. It just so happens that my previous body, the one I was reversed into, looks exactly like this Barty fellow."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"Because I give you my word. And in the middle of this forest, my word is all you've got."

Harry bit his lip and slowly lowered his wand.

"Thanks. Now, Hermione," the man said quickly. "What's happened?"

Hermione took a deep breath before answering. "It all started about two weeks ago, when they said you were carted off to Azkaban. Anyway, Umbridge was made Headmistress, and it's basically been hell ever since."

"Go on," said the man slowly.

"Four hours ago, some more zygons arrived in the middle of our daily inspection. A zygon came out of some sort of craft – they've got a disillusionment charm on it – and it - it killed Crabbe!" She burst into tears.

"S - sorry," she sniffed, wiping away her tears. "More zygons emerged and joined the first one, and they all started firing into the crowd. Harry and I ran into the forest and have been in here ever since."

The man's face darkened, and he exploded in anger. "What do the zygons think they're doing? Invading a Level Five planet is in direct violation of Article Fifty-Eight of the Shadow Proclamation! Where's their ship?" he demanded.

"That way," replied Hermione, pointing to her right.

"Allons-y!" the man said, and walked off into the direction that Hermione had indicated, the gloom of the forest rapidly swallowing him until he could no longer be seen.

"Why don't you think he's Professor Smith?" Hermione whispered.

"The fact that he looks exactly like Barty Crouch," Harry said, kicking a stone. "Plus the fact that he's got a completely different personality...too arrogant, I reckon."

"I'll give you that one, but he was still likeable," Hermione agreed, before returning to her favourite activity of walking in circles, while Harry leant against a tree and shredded leaves.

* * *

Up in Hogwarts Castle, the situation had improved, but only slightly. The teachers had been successful in casting shield charms that kept the zygons away from the doors, but to their horror, it had turned out that even the strongest charms weren't particularly effective against the constant onslaught of zygon weaponry. They all knew that it was only a matter of time before the charms fell.

"If only Albus were here," McGonagall whispered to the other teachers as they gathered in the Great Hall that night. The Hall had become the base of operations for the counterattack against the zygons; Umbridge and the Heads of Houses directed students and other teachers in their efforts.

"Rubbish, Minerva," replied Umbridge. "We are coping as best we can, and it is only a matter of time before the Ministry receives my owl and sends aurors in to help."

"But that's suicide!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "You've seen what their weapons do to us! Even a moisturising charm can't counteract the effects!"

Umbridge glared at him before continuing. "I've requested that the aurors be supported by two hundred dementors."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Did it ever occur to you, _Headmistress_, that having dementors on the battlefield will only dishearten our own people, giving those creatures an advantage? What if they're immune to a dementor's effect?"

"Even if they can't relive their worst memories, they can most certainly get their souls sucked out!" Umbridge retorted angrily.

_Bang!_

Startled, the teachers whirled around, wands raised, to see a man panting, rubbing his arm ruefully.

"I'm thick!" the man said angrily. "I'm old and thick! I'd never normally go charging off to face a class one bioship armed with only a vortex manipulator and some prison clothes, but I did. Tell you what, it's probably all this radiation around, messing with my brain cells a bit." He sniffed. "At least the teleport worked."

The teachers stiffened as they recognised the man as Barty Crouch Junior, who most had last seen being escorted, unconscious, to the dungeons. In a flash, their wands were out and pointed at the man.

"You!" shrieked Umbridge, aiming her wand directly over the man's heart. "How did you escape Azkaban?"

The man shrugged. "Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff."

"What?"

The man sighed. "Ontological paradox. I only escaped because my future self went back and let my past self free," he said simply.

"Oh," said Umbridge lamely.

Snape strode up to the man, grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall.

"You know, your little stint with the veritaserum almost had me believe that you weren't Crouch, but since only extremely powerful wizards are able to escape Azkaban...disregarding the animagus Black, the Dark Lord must have aided you," he said menacingly. "Did the Dark Lord aid your escape?" he snarled. "Did he?"

The man rolled his eyes. "No time to explain, so here we go. Allons-y!" he cried, grabbing Snape by the shoulders. The next moment, he slammed his head into Snape's in a vicious head butt.

Snape immediately recoiled in agony, clutching his skull. However, his eyes widened as a stream of information - memories - ran through his mind. He saw the truth behind the man's claim, that he wasn't Barty Crouch, and that he was Professor John Smith.

Dimly, Snape became aware that Umbridge was screaming something at the man - Professor Smith.

"Are you crazy?" Umbridge was saying. "_Stupe –"_

"No!" Snape interrupted suddenly, lurching forward and making contact with Umbridge's wand arm. The spell sailed safely over Professor Smith's head.

"Severus, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" McGonagall asked in disbelief.

"Stop, don't stun him," Snape said, breathing heavily. "This man...isn't Crouch...he's John Smith...like he said he is."

"Severus, he's confounded you! There's no way that he's not Barty!" Professor Sprout said worriedly.

"No, Pomona, he's John. The head butt transferred some of his memories to me," Snape explained.

The Umbridge, McGonagall, Flitwick and Professor Sprout still look confused, but Snape and Professor Smith were saved from further explanations when a student came running into the Hall.

"Professors!" a girl called out, bursting with news.

"Yes, Oswin?" Professor Flitwick asked.

"Professors, it's the Death Eaters, they've started apparating into the school grounds. They're attacking the creatures _and_ us!"

"Nonsense, Oswin, You-Know-Who most certainly hasn't returned!" Umbridge declared immediately. "They are the aurors I sent for; the dementors mustn't be far behind."

McGonagall turned to her, nostrils flared. "Are you suggesting that Miss Oswin is lying in a life-or-death situation?"

"Yes I am!" Umbridge said stubbornly. "What I'm worried about is how the aurors managed to apparate here in the first place; the creatures must have caused the castle's protective enchantments to collapse."

"Can't we just contact Albus?" Sprout asked.

"NO!" shrieked Umbridge. "We are managing perfectly well on our own, we don't -"

She was interrupted by a silver streak zooming past her and disappearing.

Umbridge was livid. "Who's patronus was that?" she asked, her voice dangerously soft.

"Mine," said Snape sneered. "It may interest you to know, Dolores, but if Oswin here is right, then we are to need all the help we can get. Now, _stay back_."

Umbridge pretended to cower beneath Snape's deathly glare. As much as she loathed the man, she didn't dare do anything right now. Her time would come soon.

"Right," said Professor Smith cheerily, in an effort to break the tension. "We need to order all students to withdraw back into the school. If these Death Eaters – mind you, how can you eat death, exactly?" he asked, confused. "Anyone?"

"Uh, they don't," the girl said.

"Clara!" Professor Smith said, recognising the sixth year from his classes. "Why do they call themselves Death Eaters, then?"

Clara shrugged. "Intimidation, I guess," she said, before looking at Professor Smith curiously. "Who're you?" she asked.

"Professor Smith," Professor Smith said promptly. He frowned. "Death Eaters? Intimidating? Yeah," he said doubtfully. "Now, where was I – ah yes! So, if these Death Eaters are attacking students and zygons, wouldn't it be better to take the students off the battlefield and let these Death Eaters and the zygons battle it out by themselves?"

"Zygons?" asked Flitwick.

"The creatures, they're called zygons," Professor Smith replied matter-of-factly. "Clara, would you mind telling the others to get back in the castle?"

"Right. But how can you be Professor Smith? Professor Smith was younger, and had a lot of floppy hair and a bow tie."

Professor Smith waved her off. "I'll explain later," he said. Clara scowled before running out of the Hall to deliver the order to retreat.

Professor Smith turnedback to the other teachers. "Right, I'm going up to the astronomy tower to see how the battle's going. Should be able get a good view from that high up. Anyone else want to come?"

"I will," Umbridge volunteered. "As far as I'm concerned, you're an escaped criminal, so someone has to keep an eye on you!"

"Fine," Professor Smith said, and he grabbed her hand. "Allons-y!" he shouted, running out of the Hall, dragging Umbridge behind him.

"Let me go," Umbridge demanded as she was pulled up the marble staircase. Professor Smith obeyed and whirled around to face her.

"My clothes, where are they?" he asked.

"Sorry?"

"My clothes, the ones I was wearing when you chucked me in that prison, where did you put them?"

"They were destroyed, like every other possession a criminal has on them when they get there," Umbridge answered. "You'll have to do with those prison clothes!" She looked at the grubby one azkaban attire Professor Smith currently wore.

"It wasn't the clothes themselves I was worried about," Professor Smith said absently. "We're making a slight detour!" he said as he rocketed down the first floor corridor and ran into classroom six, Umbridge not far behind.

"What are we doing in your classroom?" she asked, only to see Professor Smith standing out the front of his blue box.

"Damn, no key," he said crossly, before snapping his fingers.

_Click._

The door to the box unlocked and opened, allowing Professor Smith to dart inside.

"What are you going into your box for?" Umbridge said, attempting to follow her colleague inside, but as she approached, Professor Smith came charging out again.

"Allons-y!" he said again, grabbing her hand as he ran past.

"You've changed!" Umbridge said in astonishment.

"Clothes, yeah," Professor Smith agreed. "I couldn't bear wearing those prison clothes any longer, so I got changed. Seems my tenth self is reasserting himself," he mused, looking down at the brown pinstripe suit he was now wearing. "I also got this," he added, pulling out a thin, bronze coloured instrument from one of his pockets. "Sonic screwdriver, can't go without one!"

* * *

Five minutes later, Professor Smith stood on the astronomy tower, looking at the carnage below. Human and zygon bodies were littered everywhere. The majority were human, and Hogwarts students at that.

Professor Smith surveyed the area below with an expression of utmost disgust.

"Look at this," he said angrily. "All these students, people and Zygons dead because diplomacy wasn't an option." He shook his head. "The Zygons are amphibious, but they prefer water, so why not just live in the Lake? Senseless."

Umbridge, on the other hand, made a very different observation. "Why are the students retreating from those half-breeds?" she said crossly. "They should stand and fight!"

Professor Smith glared at her. "The zygons aren't 'half-breeds' at all; they're one hundred percent zygon," he said. "And the students are retreating for their own safety – surely you don't want to write more letters to mourning families than you need to?"

Umbridge sulked in silence. '_This fool needs to be disposed of. Should I push him over the edge?'_ she thought. '_No, people would see the body, and as I'm the only person up here..._'

"Ooh, hold on." Professor Smith interrupted her sinister thoughts. He leaned a bit further over the tower wall. "Those eaters of death, or whatever seem to be charging the zygons from behind!"

Umbridge moved forward to get a better look. Sure enough, there was a distinct formation of robed figures marching toward the rear zygon lines, shooting spells into the horde of orange creatures.

"They're not Death Eaters!" Umbridge scoffed. "They're just an anarchist group. Either way, those creatures are dead!" she said with great satisfaction.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Professor Smith frowned. "There's something I'm missing." He took out his sonic screwdriver and activating it. "Oh, oh, oh!" he said after a short pause.

"What?"

"There seems to be a zygon ship above the grounds, ready to strike!"

"Where?" asked Umbridge, looking around wildly.

She got her answer when the ship turned off its camouflage circuits.

"Oh," she said faintly.

"What are they doing?" Professor Smith said curiously, before spotting a build-up of energy on the underside of the fuselage. "No," he breathed. "They wouldn't!"

But he was proved wrong as the zygon weapon fired, dancing across the battlefield, consuming every human on the ground. The dying screams of hundreds of Death Eaters echoed up to the ears of Professor Smith and Umbridge. Umbridge, for all her bluster, shivered.

"See what would've happen had the students not retreated?" Professor Smith said angrily, gesturing to the smoking, charred remains of Hogwarts' grounds. "They would have been massacred." He sighed. "C'mon, nothing else to see up here."

Umbridge opened her mouth to reply, but an alien voice drowned out her words.

"The humans on the battlefield have been destroyed. Our weapons systems are now locked on to the stone structure. You have one of your Earth hours to surrender before your structure is destroyed."

"No!" Professor Smith shouted, and he ran back down the stairs. He had to stop the students and teachers from surrendering. He had an idea...

* * *

_FLASH_

Dumbledore appeared in the Great Hall clutching Fawkes' legs.

"Oh Albus, thank God you're here!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed as soon as she saw the former Headmaster. "Hogwarts is being attacked!"

"By who, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.

"The Death Eaters."

Dumbledore's eyes went wide.

"Not anymore," interrupted Professor Smith as he skidded into the Hall. "The zygons just killed all of them."

"Barty!" Dumbledore quickly withdrew his wand. "_Stupe-_"

"Headmaster, this man, despite his appearances, is Professor John Smith," Snape said quickly. "He...transferred some of his memories to me to save time earlier."

Dumbledore hesitated, but lowered his wand. He trusted Severus implicitly, but even so, doubts remained. But they could be pushed aside for the time being, so as to focus on other, more important matters. "These zygons, what are they?" he asked.

"Aliens who want to take over the planet," Professor Smith said simply.

"We were about to agree to their surrender," squeaked Flitwick.

"Don't," Professor Smith advised.

"Why not?" asked Sprout.

"Trust me, don't. If you we do surrender, they'll kill us. If we don't, then we have a chance to get ourselves out of this mess."

Umbridge finally appeared, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. "YOU!" she shrieked upon laying eyes on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore ignored her, and decided that it was time that Professor Smith - if it was him - gave some answers. "Why should we trust you, John?" he asked Professor Smith. "I think it's quite clear that you're not who you seem. Ever since you turned up in your box at the start of term, there have been questions that need answering."

Professor Smith looked strained. "Does it have to be now?" he asked, running his hand through his spiky hair. The teachers nodded. "Blimey, trying to negotiate with humans..." he muttered.

"Fine," he said finally. "My name isn't John Smith, it's actually the Doctor. I travel, in my blue box; it's a sort of...vanishing cabinet, but way more advanced." He sighed and continued. "I was actually intending to visit my granddaughter, but I ended up here instead. The old girl always has a reason for landing somewhere, so I decided to stick around and see what would happen. And, well," he trailed off. Everyone knew he meant the zygon invasion.

Umbridge snorted. "What utter rubbish. Granddaughter indeed! How old are you? Thirty-five? Forty?"

Dumbledore frowned. "As much as I find your answers intriguing, John, I will ask you to reveal some more once our current crisis is over. If we can't surrender to these zygons, perhaps we can try negotiating with them."

Professor Smith looked at him in alarm. "No, Headmaster, you mustn't. They will kill you if you step outside!"

"For someone so young, you know quite a lot," Snape said silkily. "Perhaps you should explain why the Headmaster should not attempt to negotiate."

Professor Smith let out a strangled cry of exasperation before answering. "I've fought the zygons before, twenty years ago, in nineteen seventy-five. They had a spaceship under Loch Ness and were planning to take over the world. I managed to stop them, but not before they'd sent out a message to their Invasion Fleet, the very Fleet which is right outside!"

The teachers looked at each other.

"Look, if you're still determined to negotiate, let me go!" Professor Smith said desperately.

"But you said they'd kill Dumbledore if he went outside, what makes you special?" asked Sprout.

"I'm clever," Professor Smith replied rudely.

The teachers looked quite affronted.

"Well I never!" McGonagall said, offended.

"The nerve!" squeaked Professor Flitwick.

Dumbledore deliberated. "Very well," he said after a moment. "John, please see what you can do to ease the current situation."

Muttering darkly, Professor Smith turned and marched towards the door, unlocking it, opening it, and stepping outside.

_Click!_

He was instantly greeted with the sight of an entire army priming their weapons and aiming them straight at him.

"What do you want, human?" one of the zygons hissed.

"I want to talk to whoever's in charge," Professor Smith replied.

The army snickered softly. "And why should we let you do that?"

"Because I'm the Doctor."

The army froze.

"I'll, uh, see what I can do," stammered the unfortunate zygon, and he quickly turned and disappeared into the ranks of his fellow soldiers.

The Doctor stood impatiently for several minutes, until a zygon pushed his way through the crowd. Unlike the others, this zygon exuded importance, right from the battle scarred, weary face, to the awed looks and salutes the other zygons gave him.

"I am General Zyrath of the Zygon Space Fleet," the zygon said, his voice fairly deep for a Zygon. "I have heard that you would like to talk to me...Doctor."

"Yes," Professor Smith said shortly. "Now, what is the point of all this?" he asked, gesturing around him. Hogwarts' grounds were no longer lush, green grass; they were charred, blackened earth. Bodies lay everywhere, littering the battlefield. Even the whomping willow had not escaped unscathed; it's trunk and branches were scorched, and a pile of ash beside it was all that remained of its leaves.

General Zyrath bristled. "The zygon race has been looking for a new home planet ever since ours was destroyed several thousand years ago. As two-thirds of this planet's surface is covered in water, we deemed this planet suitable for invasion and colonisation."

"But you can't just invade a level five planet; it goes against Article Fifty-Eight of the Shadow Proclamation!" Professor Smith said angrily. "Can't you just colonise without taking over the planet? Is it really worth it, all this death? Zygons are only allowed a specific number of casualties per battle, how many for this one?"

"One hundred. We thought the humans would be easy to subjugate."

"You were wrong. And how many have been killed so far?"

Zyrath scowled. "Three hundred."

"Aha!" Professor Smith said triumphantly, and he walked up to Zyrath with his hands in his pockets. "Which means what?"

"Direct engagement isn't working, a ceasefire should be implemented," Zyrath said reluctantly.

"So?" Professor Smith asked, eyebrows raised in expectation.

Zyrath sighed and spoke into his communicator. "This is General Zyrath. All troops are to retreat until further notice. This order cannot be countermanded."

Professor Smith relaxed. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "You have no idea how good it is to have people actually _listen_ to me for once. Your compliance is much appreciated."

And with that, he turned and walked back to the castle doors. "We'll talk again soon," he promised, before opening the doors and slipping inside.

* * *

**Author Note: Wow, it turns out that the Zygons are actually quite reasonable! Clara had a cameo this chapter, obviously; she'll have a bigger role later on. Also, with the posting of this chapter, the word count exceeds that of the original story by about 4 thousand words. (Though a big chunk of that 4k will be my author notes and the replies to reviews!) I think the total work count might even break 50k, depending on how much I edit the remaining chapters, and how long future author notes are!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Wonderbee31: Thanks! Yes, the programme drastically needs less romance, it's getting very contrived, boring and repetitive.**

**Insanityisgood25: You hate Umbridge? Good, my plan is working! ;) Yeah, I figured that now we know who 12 is, why not put him in instead? And no, 12 will not be the Doctor in the sequel, that's still 11. 12 will be the Doctor in the DW/Hunger Games crossover that I have planned.**

**Katies2105: Thanks!**

**TracyFace3: As shown in this chapter, he has more to do with Umbridge (same goes for the next chapter too).  
**

**How can I not like Ten? Very easily, actually. There's a lot of reasons, but I think it boils down to the fact that he was too human. And don't get me started on his atrocious attitude to regeneration, not to mention the scene itself...grrr. I could very easily write an essay on why I don't like him, but I'll save that for another day.**

**As for David Tennant, I like him, he's an amazing actor. But despite his amazing acting abilities, I thought he didn't make a particularly good Doctor, though that's mainly the scripts' fault.**

**Update every day? As much as I'd like to, I can't, because, at the moment, I'm only writing about a thousand words a week! I'd be absolutely pressed for time if I had to update every day! I don't want to even think about doing it every hour! Plus, spreading it out over four days means it takes longer before it's complete and we move on to the sequel...though I'm sure that for many of you, moving on to the sequel is what you want!**

******Thanks for recommending the story, that means a lot!**

******arylos: Don't worry, I'm very well aware of that fact! And yes, I know that River technically isn't dead yet, but there's a very good reason as to why she's not the person picking 12 up...**

******SuOmAlAiNeN92: I've always thought that the Ministry would have got rid of Crouch's body after he had his soul sucked out. It's not like it's going to do anything now, he's in a permanent vegetative state. So yeah, they got rid of his body, hence why Umbridge didn't see him in Azkaban.  
**

******Thanks! An you think that Clara would pick up the Doctor? Interesting...**

******Lovesbugsalot: While I also believe that the producers will use that scene in Lets Kill Hitler to get around the 12 regeneration limit, until such a thing is confirmed as canon, I won't mention it. For all we know, River's extra regenerations simply healed him and left it at that.**

******Yes, this chapter and the previous one could be considered the climax of the story...the first climax, anyway. Things are about to heat up again!**


	15. Clara Oswin

**Chapter 14 - Clara Oswin  
**

The next two days passed very quickly. After he'd gone back inside the castle, Zyrath had immediately began the process of clearing up the battlefield by removing the remains of the dead Zygon soldiers. He had then graciously left the castle's grounds clear of Zygon activity for 24 hours, so that the students and teachers could remove their dead as well. It had been a long and heartbreaking process, with many students becoming overwhelmed with grief as they stared down at the remains of their fallen classmates. Unfortunately, only a small number of the bodies were identifiable, as the majority of casualties were caused by the Zygon dehydration gun, which left only a few bone fragments and pieces of tattered cloth. All one could do about that was to stare sadly at the piles of bone and wonder if you were looking at all that was left of a dead friend.

Negotiations began on the second day, with the Professor Smith appointing himself the human representative, much to the teacher's annoyance. Although they tried hard, nothing they said would make him change his mind.

"The Zygons will listen to me, and you lot would only mess the whole thing up," he said, before being teleported to the Zygon command ship.

After several hours of debate, Professor Smith, General Zyrath and Commander Gratan finally reached a decision. The Zygons would remain on Earth, but would colonise the many Scottish lakes, allowing them to live undetected by any human. While Zyrath had readily accepted the proposal, Gratan seemed more reluctant, wanting to wait for several more days before what he called, 'rushing into action'. Zyrath disagreed, and the decision was made to notify the Zygon Council of Professor Smith's proposal, while Professor Smith would seek the approvement of the teachers at Hogwarts.

There was, however, one final loose end to be resolved...

Professor Smith and Zyrath stood up.

"Great. The teacher's should agree; they're a sensible lot." Professor Smith said. "Oh, I believe that you're still holding several students captive in one of your ships, would it be possible..."

"To release them? Yes, of course. Gratan will take you down to his ship now," Zyrath replied.

"So it was you who captured Ron and that other woman?" Professor Smith said, frowning at Gratan.

"Yes," Gratan said indifferently. "Step into the teleportation booth, please."

Professor Smith complied, and it wasn't long before he felt himself being pulled apart by the blue residue of the teleportation energy. A second later, the large negotiating room of the Zygon spaceship was replaced by a dimly lit, crowded control room of another vessel, the one crashed at the bottom of the lake.

"So this is the source of my troubles for the last month," Professor Smith commented, striding out of the teleportation booth. Something caught his attention as he looked around the room.

"Oh, a Time-Space Visualiser!" he said delightedly, spotting an instrument on what appeared to be a control panel. "I keep forgetting about the one in the TARDIS, haven't used it for, oh, about a thousand years. But," he added, frowning, "where'd you get it?"

"The War," Gratan hissed.

"Sorry?"

"The Time War. We were on our way to this miserable planet when we found it floating in space. We recognised it as Time Lord technology, and...adapted it."

"So that's how you knew to impersonate that other woman." Professor Smith said quietly. "You found a bit of rare Time Lord space junk and used it to show the future." He gazed at Gratan for a few seconds before taking out a pair of glasses and putting them on. "Well, you won't be using it anymore, the circuits are all fried," he said, tapping the instrument. "Not really compatible with the organic ship you've got here."

"An unfortunate development. A device such as that has infinite possible uses. I could see whether your proposal as to where we should settle will work. Or look back at history...the Time War, perhaps."

"Well, that's not gonna happen," Professor Smith said calmly. "The War's Time-Locked, a Time-Space Visualiser would never be able to break through to view what lies within. Not that you'd want to know anyway."

"Why not?" Gratan hissed. "The myths and legends of the War are not able to be trusted, I would prefer an account of someone who actually experienced it..."

"Ah, the amber sleep controls," Professor Smith said, ignoring Gratan. "I'll just turn it off...there we go!" he said brightly. He turned to Gratan. "Which way to the cells? I spent half a year trying to get in last time, I'd rather I only spent about five minutes this time, if you don't mind."

He made for the door, but Gratan blocked his way.

"I'll take you where you need to go when you tell me what the War was like!" he said loudly. His eyes bulged, and his face was contorted into some kind of maniacal grin; he seemed very eager to glean as much information about the Tome War from Professor Smith as he could.

But something else had attracted Professor Smith's attention.

"Hold on," he said angrily, marching over to an obscure part of the room. "A time reverser!" he said, picking up box-shaped device with a display screen and several controls on it's uppermost face. "So this is how you degenerated me!" Professor Smith said, glaring at Gratan. "You scavenged more Time Lord technology, then cobbled together this. I wouldn't be surprised if it's got a bit of dalek technology in it as well."

He put the device back. "You're just lucky that Zygon's are rubbish at temporal engineering, or you'd be in a lot of trouble," he warned. "Now, I'm only going to say this one more time: take me to the amber sleep chambers!"

Gratan scowled, but relented and showed Professor Smith to the amber sleep chambers.

When they arrived, they were greeted by thirty odd confused Hogwarts students, plus one extremely irritated journalist.

"Excuse me, could you please tell me what the hell is going in here?" Rita Skeeter asked furiously the moment Professor Smith walked into the room.

"Yes, yes, in a minute," Professor Smith said quickly, before raising his voice. "Alright, alright, calm down," he said loudly.

To his surprise, the chatter if the students died down almost immediately.

"Right, now I'm sure you're all confused -"

"To right we are!" called a Hufflepuff student. "Where are we?"

"You're on a ship at the bottom of the Black Lake," Professor Smith explained. "You were kidnapped by Zygons, but they've agreed to let you go." He shot Gratan an angry look. Something about the Zygon Commander wasn't right; it was if he was going along with everything, biding his time. Someone would have to keep an eye on him.

"Gratan, if you would be so kind to activate the teleport..."

Gratan flicked a switch.

Several of the students screamed as their bodies were surrounded by blue sparks, no doubt reminding them of how they'd been captured in the first place. A moment later, however, the lost students of Hogwarts were standing in the Great Hall.

At first, the students were a bit confused, but they soon cheered delightfully when they realised where they were.

"We're back in Hogwarts!" a Second Year shouted.

"How'd we get here?" a Fourth Year asked.

"Must've apparated," his friend replied.

The other occupants of the Hall were initially stunned to see the new arrivals, but soon hastened to greet them, with friends hugging each other while the teachers made sure that everyone was unharmed.

Rita Skeeter quietly slipped away during all the hullaballoo. Wouldn't she have a story to give the Daily Prophet when she got back to London! They'd have to hire her, that Granger woman be damned.

Dumbledore detached himself from the crowd of rescued students and made his way over to Professor Smith. "I must thank you, John," he smiled, shaking Professor Smith's hand. "You've done Hogwarts a great favour."

"Oh, it's nothing, don't worry about me," Professor Smith said, shrugging the compliment off. "Just enjoy the peace while you still can. For some reason I'm getting the feeling that it's not going to last..."

* * *

"No, John, I refuse to allow it!" shouted Umbridge. Professor Smith had called a staff meeting in Dumbledore's office to discuss the plans for the Zygons to colonise the lake. So far, only Umbridge had disagreed with the proposal.

"Why not?" Professor Smith shot back. "They've as much right to life as you do!"

"B-b-but we can't have our enemies living in the lochs surrounding the school!" spluttered Umbridge. "That's madness."

"Yet we have the centaurs living in the Forest, and the merpeople living in the Lake," McGonagall pointed out.

Snape nodded. "And according to you, they're our enemies as well."

"That's different!" Umbridge said at once.

"Of course," Dumbledore said amusedly. "But I'm afraid, Dolores, that you no longer have the right to make decisions for the school.

"Oh, and why not, Albus?" Umbridge sneered. "Last I checked, I was still Headmistress."

"That's true, and you still are, officially," Dumbledore admitted. "But I find it curious how Hogwarts recognises authority, and how that authority remains with me."

Umbridge took several deep, calming breaths. "This isn't about the school, Dumbledore, it is about thr Ministry," she said through gritted teeth. "The Ministry would have to classify these 'Zygons' as creatures of near-human intelligence, then restrict them to certain areas so they won't attack us -"

Professor Smith sighed in exasperation. "There's no danger, Dolores. The zygons will keep their word and never attack the school again."

"Can you be one hundred per cent certain?"

Professor Smith hesitated, giving Umbridge an opportunity to go on the offensive.

"There!" she cried triumphantly. "We can't even be certain that allowing these zygons will keep their word! At the very least, they should all be rounded up and tagged. Personally, I think they should all be killed, every last one of them!"

Professor Smith narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting the magical community commit genocide?"

"Yes, I am!" Umbridge said proudly. "And I will get an official order from the Minister himself."

"You think you can appeal to a higher authority?" Professor Smith asked angrily, raising his voice. "You can't, because there's no one. It stops with me!"

"Then you're too late," Umbridge said smugly. "A hit squad of aurors and dementors are on their way to clear out the Zygons."

Professor Smith groaned and ran his hands through his hair. The woman was mad, there was no way she would listen to a logical argument! He changed tactica..

"Dolores, listen to me," he pleaded. "You have no hope of killing the Zygons. Even if you somehow manage to kill the ones here, the Zygon Council will just send reinforcements! They'll destroy Hogwarts if need be!"

"Nothing can destroy Hogwarts," Umbridge declared, walking out of the room. "Especially not filthy half-breeds."

"For the last time, you can't fight Zygons!" Professor Smith shouted desperately at her retreating form. "Humans!" he muttered, before dashing out of the room, heading down to classroom six. He had to stop Umbridge.

* * *

"Oh my god, Ron!" screamed Hermione, running towards the redhead as she and Harry walked into the Great Hall. The had finally decided to leave the Forest after several hours of silence from the castle. To their relief, everything had been all right.

"Geroff, Hermione," mumbled Ron into her shoulder as she hugged him. "I'm fine."

"I know, it's just – it's just that I was so s-scared about you, Ginny, Fred and George," Hermione sobbed in relief.

"It's okay, they're all fine. It's just," he swallowed heavily, "...well, we lost a lot of good people today. Parvati, Seamus..."

"Seamus?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Ron answered shakily. "He fell right on top of me, though I s'pose it'd be more accurate to say that he _blew_ all over me. I never want to see that happen to anyone, ever again."

"I'm with you there, mate," Harry agreed solemnly, remembering the sight of Crabbe's skin drying and cracking like parched mud, until it fell apart.

'_They're dead,_' a voice in Harry's head said. '_Parvati and Seamus are dead, killed by the zygons. How many others were killed too, how many did you know person-.'_

'_Shut it!' _a second voice said viciously.

'_But it's true,_' the first voice continued nastily. '_You are a coward, you put yourself and your friend over the lives of everyone else. They became second to you. How disgusting is that; imagine what how your mother feels, knowing that she sacrificed herself to save someone who doesn't have the decency to do the same for everyone else!_'

"I SAID, SHUT UP!"

Harry came to his senses, realising that he had fallen to his knees, clutching his head. Breathing heavily, he stood up.

"Come on," he said shortly, walking quickly out of the Hall. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances before following him.

They found him in classroom six, standing next to a window, overlooking the lake.

"Harry, what was it? Did you get another vision?" Hermione asked worriedly, as she and Ron walked up to him.

"No," Harry admitted. "It's just that...Am I a good person, Hermione?"

"Of course you are, Harry, you're one of the few truly good and selfless –"

"No," Harry said, cutting her off. "I'm not selfless."

Ron laughed. "Course you are, mate. Look what you did in second year, you went all the way to the Chamber of Secrets just to find and save Ginny."

"And your fought of a hundred dementors in third year," smiled Hermione.

"But that was different, Hermione," Harry said. "When the Zygons landed and started attacking...all I could think of was to run. I should have stayed and helped the teachers protect the rest of the school, a shield charm, or maybe a patronus could have worked!"

"You're thinking of weak excuses, Harry..."

"No, Parvati, Seamus, Ernie, Padma...they died, and it was all my fault!"

"Despite our best efforts, there are always those you can't save."

All three Gryffindors whirled around to see Professor Smith leaning against his blue box, a large, gun shaped device propped up next to him.

Ron's mouth dropped open in shock, and he reached for his wand, but Hermione held him back, shaking her head.

"Yeah, but that only counts if you tried. All I did was run away!" Harry said.

"Yes," Professor Smith said firmly. "And if you'd stayed, chances are you would have been killed. Sometimes, running away is the best thing you can do."

"How would you know?" Harry shot back, angry. "Every time something bad happens, it's because I run away. Ginny almost died because I ran away from my duty of telling Dumbledore about our suspicions. My parents died trying to save me because they ran away. Umbridge made this place hell because Dumbledore ran away. Lots of people died a few days ago because I ran away. VOLDEMORT ALMOST WON BECAUSE PEOPLE LIKE YOU RAN AWAY!"

"Harry, calm down!" Hermione said desperately. "He's a friend."

Harry took several deep breaths, realising that, in his anger, he'd marched right up to Professor Smith, and was staring him in the face. "Well?" he demanded.

Professor Smith looked at Harry, pain and suffering evident in his eyes. "It hurts," he said simply. "Running away hurts, but sometimes, you have to do it. Believe me, I know."

"Explain."

Professor Smith sighed, at sat down at his desk. It was time to tell Harry, Ron and Hermione the truth.

"I know, because once, a very long time ago, I ran away myself. I suppose you could say it all started when I stared into the Untempered Schism."

"The untempered what?" Hermione asked.

"The Untempered Schism, a gap in the fabric of reality, from which the Time Vortex itself could be seen. Children from my world were made to watch the raw power of the universe, as an initiation into the Academy. Some were inspired, some went mad, and some ran away, scared."

"What did you do?"

Professor Smith stared off into space. "I ran away; never stopped really. I went through the Academy, got married, had a few kids then...ran away again, taking my granddaughter with me. In time, I ran away from her too," Professor Smith sniffed. "That's the one thing I've always regretted," he said sadly, "running away from the one person I loved more than myself. After that, my entire life's been me running away from my past, never once looking back. I hate myself; I'm a monster" he said, spitting the words out like venom. "That's the truth, Harry. People run away, not to save others, but to save themselves. I'm over a thousand years old, how do you think I'm still sane? I've had so much pain and loss in my life that the only way to life through it is to run away. Oh, there have been times when I've stood and fought for what I believed to be right, but it never works. Running away is the only refuge I've found."

Professor Smith looked sadly at Harry for a moment before jumping to his feet. "Righto, we've got to stop Umbridge before she gets us all killed."

The sharp u-turn in emotion was quite jarring, and Hermione blinked in surprise.

"By using that?" Ron asked, pointing at the large, gun shaped object.

"Well..."

"What is it?" Hermione asked, frowning. "It looks like a weird gun."

"You're right, it is a gun, but it's a lot more advanced than normal ones. It's a De-mat Gun," Professor Smith explained. "It erases anyone or anything from space time, so that they never existed. Found it in a cupboard in the TARDIS, must've been left over from the..." he coughed.

"Professor, Professor!"

Professor Smith looked up to see Clara Oswin run into the room.

"Yes, Clara, what is it?"

"Professor, the other Professors sent me to tell you that the dementors and aurors have arrived!" Clara said, bending over to catch her breath.

Professor Smith stood up, shocked. "I thought they'd be slower! Allons-y!" he cried, grabbing the De-mat Gun and running out of the room.

"Professor," Clara called, rushing after him. "If I'm not mistaken, that looks very much like a gun."

Professor Smith glanced at her. "How would you know?"

Clara smirked. "Muggleborn. Our knowledge isn't as limited as the general magical population. So, is it a gun?"

"Unfortunately." Professor Smith grimaced. "I don't like guns, in fact, I hate them, but given the circumstances..."

"But you're not going to use it?"

Professor Smith snorted. "Course not. But Umbridge doesn't know that, does she?"

Clara grinned.

"Oh, by the way," Professor Smith said. "Did I ever say I was sorry for causing your mental breakdown?"

"No..." Clara said. "You still owe me an explanation as to why you look different anyway...you are Professor Smith, aren't you?"

Professor Smith nodded.

"Then why do you look different?"

"Degenerated into my previous body. Long story," Professor Smith said as they hurtled down the marble staircase. "Anyway, sorry for your mental breakdown. I thought you could handle it faster-than-light travel."

Clara shrugged. "I learnt a lot," she smiled.

Professor Smith grinned.

* * *

Back in Classroom Six, Harry was still sitting in his seat, contemplating what Professor Smith had said. He had to admit that running away made sense, especially for self-preservation, but Professor Smith had said that he'd done it to keep himself sane. What had Professor Smith done to warrant such drastic action? But still – running away from anything and everything? What a coward.

"Harry! Harry!"

Hermione shook his shoulder in an attempt to get his attention.

"Yeah?"

"We need to go, otherwise we'll never catch up to Professor Smith."

"He was wrong, Hermione."

"Sorry?"

"Professor Smith was wrong. Running away is never the right answer. You need to stand for what you believe is right, and defend it to the death, no matter what the consequences. Running away gets you nowhere."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly, taking his hand. She paused before continuing. "Come on, we need to go!"

Harry sighed and got up, following his friend out the door.

* * *

Out on the grounds, Umbridge was addressing the contingent of aurors and dementors, preparing them formtheir attack on the Zygon ship.

"You lot will attempt to enter their, err, vehicle from the entrance, while the dementors will charge from all sides. If everything goes to plan, the dementors will distract any weapons the vehicle may have, allowing you all to get inside, kill the half-breeds, and take control. Understood?" Umbridge addressed the crowd of aurors and dementors.

The aurors mumbled a reply and moved to take their positions, but the dementors ignored their orders and glided past them to the Forest.

"Where are you going?" Umbridge shouted at the dementors, but to no avail; they ignored her and kept gliding.

"What are you waiting for?" she shrieked at the aurors. "Go and get them!"

"Looks like your army is deserting you, Dolores," Professor Smith said cheerfully, approaching Umbridge as the aurors rushed off to follow the dementors.

Fuming, Umbridge turned to see Professor Smith standing a short distance from her, Clara right behind him. "This is all your fault, John!" she said, pointing a stubby finger at him accusingly.

Professor Smith shook his head. "No, it's yours Dolores. I'm giving you one chance to call off the attack. This whole thing can be solved peacefully."

"You are mistaken then, John. This conflict will not be resolved until every zygon has been rounded up and killed!"

"Then you leave me no choice." Professor Smith raised the De-mat Gun to his shoulder, pretending to aim. However, before he could attempt to force her to call off the attack, he found the gun spinning out of his hands.

"For such a knowledgeable person, you seem to forget a lot, John. There is such a thing as a disarming charm, remember?" Umbridge said sweetly.

Professor Smith's eyes went wide.

"I've had enough of your interference, John," Umbridge continued, her wand trained over his heart. "If the Minister knew what was at cost...yes, he'd let me do it."

Professor Smith frowned. Umbridge seemed to be trying to reassure herself of something.

"Yes, I will do it," Umbridge declared shakily. She took a deep breath, moving her wand so that it was aimed at Professor Smith's head. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A stream of green light burst from Umbridge's wand before Professor Smith could do anything but blink. His eyes widened in shock – he wasn't sure whether the dose of radiation would be enough to kill him. He wanted to move, but his feet were rooted in place. He stood staring as they green bolt drew closer and closer -

"Doctor!" Clara screamed, shoving Professor Smith out of the way.

"No, Clara!" Professor Smith cried, as the spell hit the girl, sending her flying backwards like a rag doll. The energy from the spell furled sround her yiung body, its green tendrils leaving no part of her body untouched. With a thump, her body landed heavily on the ground, her eyes staring straight up, unseeing as the left over engergy briefly danced across her body before dissipating.

"CLARA!" Professor Smith ran over to her, already knowing that she was dead, but wanting to make sure, just in case, by a miracle, she was still alive. Bending down, he felt for a pulse in her neck. Nothing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Professor Smith muttered quietly, stroking her hair, before standing up, extremely angry.

"You just MURDERED an innocent girl!" he shouted at Umbridge, who flinched. "An innocent girl, who was just on the verge of entering the adult world. She was seventeen, SEVENTEEN!" he roared. "And you killed her!"

"She was with you, hardly a loss," Umbridge retorted. "Order must be maintained."

Professor Smith glared at her, before suddenly reaching out and grabbing her wand. Ignoring her squeaks of protest, he snapped it violently over his leg and threw the pieces away. "You're right," he said, deceptively calm. "Order does need to be maintained."

Sneering at Umbridge, he walked over to the De-mat Gun, picked it up, aimed it, and cocked it.

"I wasn't intending to use this before, but you've made me change my mind," he said determinedly, hatred etched on his face. "Killing you isn't good enough – this will erase you from existence."

Umbridge paled visibly. "No, you wouldn't, no!" she begged as he advanced menacingly on her. Stumbling, she fell to the ground, and crawled desperately to a tree, backing up against it.

"Try me," Professor Smith spat.

Umbridge closed her eyes, waiting for her non-existence.

"No," he said, dropping the De-mat gun and walking up to her.

Umbridge's eyes snapped open. "What?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Even non-existence is too good for you; you need to _suffer, _for _eternity_."

Umbridge raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? I think it more likely that you just can't bring yourself to use a weapon."

"You're right, he can't," a voice from behind Professor Smith said.

Professor Smith whirled around to see Harry holding the De-mat Gun, his extreme anger disappearing almost immediately. "Harry, what are you doing?" he asked, confused.

"I saw everything, Professor. Hermione, Ron and I, we saw Umbridge kill Clara. After all she's done to me this year, I think she deserves this."

Professor Smith's went wide as he realised what Harry intended to do. "No, Harry, you mustn't!" he cried desperately, but Harry ignored him.

"You've always told me that I must not tell lies, _Professor Umbridge,_" he sneered. "And you're right, I mustn't. So I'll tell you something. Professor Smith can't bring himself to use a gun, _but I can_." He pulled the trigger.

A beam of golden energy shot out of the gun and sped towards Umbridge, enveloping her in a shimmering sphere. Umbridge only had time to give a small squeak before the sphere collapsed in on itself, erasing her from time and space forever, leaving no memory of her existence.

* * *

**Author Note: Umbridge is dead! Or non-existent, but 'dead' sounds better! Is her fate a just sentence for murdering this version of Clara? And to clear a few things up, yes, the Doctor was going to use the De-mat gun after Clara was killed, the only thing stopping him was the prospect of making Umbridge suffer for eternity.**

**Replies to reviews:**

**Wonderbee31: Hmm, a one-shot were a character basically points out all of Ten's flaws does sound quite good. I'll think about it and add it to the list of possible future stories. Yes, I quite agree, Tom Baker is how you should play the Doctor, he was amazing. As for how we'll get 11 back (or rather, make 11 look and behave like 11 again), you'll have to wait and see!**

**arylos: I'm very sure the 8th Doctor just did a Superman and reversed time or something to bring Grace and Lee back, no exchange of regenerations involved. Yes, the Master is the definition of escaping the 12 regeneration rule, or at least attempting to.**

**Almost. If John Hurt's Doctor turns out to be the true 9th Doctor, then 12 will be the last incarnation of the Doctor, unless, like you said, that number was added to by River (which, I must stress again, isn't confirmed canon...yet).**

**TracyFace3: Yes, I agree with that statement, although I do try my hardest to make 10 sound like 10. It may also have something to do with the fact that I haven't regularly watched episodes with 10 for years, and so his mannerisms, etc aren't at the forefront of my mind. **

**Can't it? O_o And yes, you probably should! :p**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: First off, thanks for the constructive critisism! You raised some valid points.**

**Hermione's quick acceptance that 10 is Professor Smith comes from the fact that she is extremely logical. She knows that Barty Crouch had his soul sucked out, and that no one can survive that. She also find Professor Smith to be very weird, which is also her first impression of the man in the Forest. She puts these to facts together, adds in the fact that the man said he was Professor Smith, and accepts it. That being said, I do agree that that scene is probably one of the weakest in the whole story, and needs some more work. I'll also address it later on in the story, probably after the Doctor looks like 11 again.**

**As for Snape, I think it is perfectly reasonable that the head-butt-to-transfer-memories works on him. And, as much as he's extremely horrid to Harry and co, I can't see him behaving the same way around his colleagues. Plus, with the school dealing with a life-or-death scenario, he'd have abandoned his nastiness to focus on defending the students and the school. He is a much better person than is generally believed.**

**It's Umbridge, I don't imagine she has that much brainpower when it comes to common sense and practical situations. She's only good with politics and cunning, etc.**

**And yes, an ontological paradox is a valid explanation, but that doesn't mean the teachers understand what it means! And just because the Doctor teaches science doesn't mean that the other teachers have any idea what his curriculum is. Sure, they might ask him, but would they really understand what he says? I like to imagine that they think he's a bit weird, and leave him alone for the most part. As for why they didn't consider whether Voldemort had rescued other Death Eaters? Well, for all they know, he could have, they just didn't turn up at Hogwarts!**

**I'm a fan of CinemaSins, and check their channel every now and then. They're very good!**

**MrsDalek: Thanks! Attention to detail is something I'm focusing on with the rewrite, and it's really enhanced the story. Thanks once again!**

**JoWashington: Off the wall? In what way? I'm genunitely interested as to why you think that, actually! Thanks!**

**transformice907: Thanks! Crabbe's not really that important (poor Crabbe!). With regards to the Room of Requirement scene, in this timeline, it'll be Goyle who dies from the Fiendfyre, just like in the movie. Thanks again!**

**taynikmadenmark: As shown in this chapter, that didn't happen!  
**

**Guest: Thanks! I hope the Sequel lives up to everyone's expecations!**

**Lovesbugsalot: Thanks a lot!**


	16. Memories

**Chapter 15 - Memories**

As soon as the golden sphere disappeared, the Universe convulsed. Memories were erased and replaced as Umbridge was purged from history. Her army no longer remembered her, instead, they had been given their orders by the Minister himself. The Hogwarts High Inquisitor was rewritten to be a Ministry Official who had visited the school several months earlier; Professor Snape had taught Defence Against the Dark Arts in addition to Potions; Umbridge's Educational Decrees were pieces of legislation trialled by the Ministry for a short period of time; another witch was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Everthing Umbridge had ever done or would do was immediately changed, creating a whole new reality.

For Harry, however, the changes were more profound. Umbridge's presense at his trial was erased, and she was replaced by another member of the Minister's office. He had been serving regular detentions with Snape, who had made him drink a potion that etched the words 'I must not tell lies' into his hand; they would heal and fade in time. Most importantly, though, he no longer remembered using the De-mat gun to erase Umbridge from time and space.

He lowered the gun, and turned to look at Ron, Hermione and Professor Smith. All three could see that he was visibly shaken.

"That was close," Ron breathed. "Another second and that werewolf would have had us!"

"Yeah," Harry shakily agreed.

"I don't understand," Hermione muttered. "Werewolves aren't active in broad daylight, they prefer dark areas like the Forbidden Forest. I know we're on the edge of it, but even so, they don't appear until well after it's dark. Why did it attack us?"

"I know You-Know-Who had a werewolf as a Death Eater," said Ron, "I think we might have met him."

Professor Smith was looking between the students, very confused. Werewolf, what werewolf? Then it clicked. Their minds had invented a threat that would justify Harry's use of the De-mat gun. They no longer remembered Umbridge, and had replaced her with an animal. He had to let them know their minds were fooling them!

"All of you, listen to me," he said urgently. "There never was a werewolf. That werewolf never existed! It's an invention, a thought, a belief your minds made up to compensate for reality being altered!"

"Rubbish, of course that werewolf existed!" scoffed Ron. "Didn't you see it rear up and almost bite Hermione's head off? What're you going on about?"

"Look, I know it's hard, but you've got to believe me!" Professor Smith said. "Harry, you used the De-mat gun on Umbridge!"

"Who?" Ron asked.

"Umbridge!"

The trio glanced at each other.

"Err, here's your 'wand', Professor," Hermione said awkwardly, holding out her hand to reveal the sonic screwdriver. "You dropped it."

Professor Smith took it and shoved it in a pocket. "So none of you can remember Umbridge?" he said.

Ron shook his head. "Nope," he said, shaking your head. "No idea who you're talking about."

"Really?" Professor Smith shot back. "Then who killed Clara?" he asked, pointing at the girl's body lying on the ground a short distance away.

"The Death Eaters," Ron said sadly. "The teachers had reported her missing, so we came out here to look for her. The search parties before us mustn't have looked here."

"No, no, no, no! Umbridge killed her!" Professor Smith said. He whirled around and grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "Remember when I said that the De-mat Gun could erase people from existence?" he said desperately.

"Yes..." Hermione said hesitantly. She thought she knew where this was going.

"What is the logical result of someone never existing, hmm?"

"You forget them..." she said slowly. "So this Umbridge person – Harry killed her!" She and Ron looked at Harry in horror.

Harry immediately dropped the gun. "But I can't even remember it!" he protested. "How can I be guilty of something I can't even remember? Besides, why can you remember everything?" he asked Professor Smith.

"I'm a time traveller, I'm used to these sorts of temporal anomalies. Well, that and the fact she wasn't an important part of my timeline," said Professor Smith.

Ron shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, but if only you can remember..." he trailed off, then sighed, looking over at Clara's body. "I'd better take her back to the Castle," he said sadly. "Harry, you wanna help carry her?"

Harry nodded, and grabbed Clara's legs while Ron lifted her shoulders. Together, they began carrying the girl back to Hogwarts.

Professor Smith groaned and ran his hand through his hair. He doubted whether he'd manage to convince anyone that Umbridge had existed now. Humans, why did they always have to be so thick?

It was at this precise moment in time that Hermione decided to prove him wrong.

"I believe you," she said quietly.

"What?" he asked, not sure whether he'd heard her correctly.

"I believe you," she said again. "About this Umbridge woman. I don't know why, really, I just get this sort of feeling that I knew a person called Umbridge once."

Professor Smith was surprised, to say the least. "Hmm," he frowned. "Have you travelled in time at all?"

Hermione nodded. "In my third year. I used a time turner to attend multiple classes at the same time."

"Thiught so," said Professor Smith. "Time travel, it builds up an immunity to this sort pf thing. You must have travelled a lot to be able to even faintly recall Umbridge."

There was a brief silence, before Professor Smith sighed and walked over to where Harry had dropped the De-mat gun. He picked it up, shouldered it, and stared in the direction of the Zygon ship.

"Come on, Miss Granger, we haven't got all day!" he said cheerfully, walking off.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she hurried after her science teacher.

"We've got to catch up with Umbridge's army and stop them from attacking the Zygons," Professr Smith replied.

"But if she was erased from existence, wouldn't they be confused as to why they're here?"

"If only," Professor Smith said gloomily. "Unfortunately, the brain is rather good at inventing memories. I once met a species of centaur who could wipe whole chunks of memory, but the brain still managed to think up a completely realistic alternate memory. There's a scientific term for that: you're thick. Her army probably thinks they were sent by the Minister."

* * *

The rest of the long walk to the Zygon ship was spent in silence. Hermione tried to force herself to fully recall Umbridge, while Professor Smith revisited the moment of Clara's death. He had just realised one strange fact - she had called him Doctor. How could she have known that? He hadn't told her, and he was sure that Harry, Ron and Hermione hadn't either. So how had she known?

He mulled the mystery over in his head for a few more minutes before concluding that it was impossible. She was an impossible girl, he decided.

Movement in his peripheral vision interrupted his thoughts.

"Who's that?" he asked, squinting to the left. He could just make out someone running towards them.

"Looks like Tonks," Hermione said, surprised. "She must've been part of the Ministe - Umbridge's army. But they went chasing after the dementors!"

"I think," Professor Smith said quietly. "They might have run into some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Dunno, but I think we're about to find out."

"Hermione! Hermione!" Tonks called as she ran up to them. "It's the aurors - they've been imperiused by You-Know-Who! And the dementors, they've been sent back to Azkaban!"

"What, Voldemort ordered them to go back, and they did?" Hermione said, shocked. The thought that Voldemort had control over those foul creatures was horrifying. "We need to tell Dumbledore!" she said.

"Sorry, but who's Voldemort? I keep hearing the name..." Professor Smith interjected.

"Come off it, how do you not know who You-Know-Who is?" Tonks panted disbelievingly. "He's only the most powerful Dark Wizard for five hundred years!"

"Oh, him, I remember him now," Professor Smith nodded. He recalled coming across the name while reading up on Wizarding history in the TARDIS. Something was odd, though - Tonks had said that all the aurors had been imperiused, which was clearly some sort of mind control. But one wizard against around a hundred aurors? The odds were against the wizard winning.

He frowned. "Tonks, can you remember how Voldly-mort took control of the aurors?"

Tonks thought for a moment. "Well, they were imperiused," she said, "but only after we all heard this sound..."

"What did it sound like?"

"I dunno, a sort of throbbing sound, like a heartbeat."

"Oh!" Professor Smith said softly, eyes wide. "A Zygon hypnosis device!"

"A what?" Hermione and Tonks asked.

"A Zygon hypnosis device. It overrides the command signals sent from the brain to the body, it leaves the person trapped in their mind, unable to do anything," Professor Smith explained.

All of a sudden, he whirled around and grabbed Tonks by the shoulders, dropping the De-mat gun in the process. "But why aren't you with them? Did you manage to resist the device? If so, how?" He frowned, reached into his pocket and withdrew his vortex manipulator. Scowling, he replaced it and took out the sonic screwdriver instead. "Well, you're human," he said, scanning her, "but that means the device should have affected you. So why didn't it? Unless it did, and the Zygons are controlling you right now..."

"They're not!" Tonks said angrily, swiping the sonic screwdriver out of Professor Smith's hand. "We need to stop them!"

"Why, what are they going to do?"

"Um, You-Know-Who just said to storm the doors."

"What do they hope to achieve with that?" Professor Smith asked increduously. "The doors are impenetrable!"

"I dunno, I'm just repeating what was said," Tonks said crossly.

Professor Smith frowned and began muttering rapidly to himself.

Tonks turned to Hermione. "Who is this guy?" she whispered quietly, so as not to be overheard.

"Professor Smith," Hermione whispered back.

"What, the guy who rocked up at Grimmauld Place? No! This guy looks exactly like Barty Crouch Junior!"

"Well..." Hermione said awkwardly.

Tonks froze. "You don't think he is Barty, do you? How'd he survive the dementor's ki - "

"Aha!" Professor Smith shouted triumphantly. "I've got it! So, Moldy-vort gets control of all the aurors, except that he uses Zygon technology. So how'd he get it?"

"The Zygons are working with him..." Hermione said slowly.

Professor Smith nodded. "Except that doesn't make any sense, does it? Zygons attacking their own ship. But what if some of the Zygons didn't want to live peacefully here? What if they wanted to kill every human? Then we've got a problem."

His eyes narrowed. He had a very strong hunch it was the Commander, Gratan. The way he had behaved during the negotiating sessions, the suppressed reluctance to release the captured humans, it all fit together to form one obvious fact: Gratan wanted eliminate any and all humans, and claim the planet as his own.

"But what about the doors?" Tonks asked. "You said they were impenetrable!"

"Only when they're closed," Professor Smith pointed out. "You open them, then the aurors can swarm in like flies."

Hermione gasped. "And if they're all under disillusionment charms..."

Professor Smith nodded. "All the rogue Zygon needs to do is to trick the other Zygons into opening the doors for him, at which point the invisible aurors enter and take control of the ship." He glanced down at his hand. "Though I think they already have."

Hermione and Tonks followed his gaze. Blue sparks were clustering around his left hand, and were beginning to spread up his arm.

He bent down and picked up the De-mat gun before turning to Tonks. "Tonks, sonic screwdriver, now!" he said urgently, holding out his other hand. "Tonks!"

"Hmm, sorry, what?" the auror asked. She'd felt a bit dizzy, a fact that worried her. Perhaps that hypnosis thing had done more to her than she previously thought.

"Give him his wand!" Hermione said.

"Oh, right, sorry," Tonks said, and she extended her hand to exchange the device with Professor Smith. However, just as Professor Smith's fingertips touched the end of the sonic screwdriver, the cloud of blue sparks collapsed inwards, and Professor Smith disappeared.

Tonks blinked. "Teleport," she muttered, before cocking her head in surprise. "Huh, so they actually exist. I'll have to tell Dad."

"Hermione! Tonks!" called a voice. It was Harry, returning from the Castle.

"Harry!" said Hermione. "Where's Ron?"

"He stayed for lunch," Harry replied, breathing heavily. "I told him lunch could wait, but he couldn't ignore his stomach."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Once again, Ron's appetite had got the better of him.

Harry turned to Tonks. "What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Umbridge asked the Ministry for some aurors. I'm the only one left, the rest are in there," she explained, jerking her thumb at the Zygon ship.

Hermione gasped. "You said Umbridge!"

"Yeah, and?" Tonks said, unconcerned. "She's Headmistress, she can do that sort of thing." She scowled. "She's a right bitch too."

"Umbridge..." Harry said slowly. "That's the person Professor Smith was going on about earlier!"

Hermione nodded. "So why do you remember her too?" she asked Tonks.

Tonks grinned at them, like the whole thing was some sort of joke. "Okay, guys, fun's over. For a moment there, I almost thought you didn't remember who she was!"

"We don't," said Harry, as Hermione said, "Well, not quite."

Tonks looked at the two of them increduously. "Hang on, are you saying that you don't remember someone who's basically taken control of the school? She's been here since September!"

Hermione sighed. "It's a long story, but apparently Harry erased this Umbridge person from existence. As it turns out, no one can properly remember her except you and Professor Smith."

"Speaking of Professor Smith," interjected Harry. "Where is he?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well," she said uncertainly, "if I had to guess, it would be the Zygon ship."

* * *

Professor Smith inwardly groaned as the pressure of the sonic screwdriver against his fingers abruptly vanished. Knowing he'd just been teleported, he looked up, only to be greeted by the bridge of the Zygon ship.

"Ah, Doctor, so nice of you to join us."

Professor Smith whirled around to see Commander Gratan smiling triumphantly, with someone who was clearly a wizard standing beside him. The wizard was tall, bald and very pale, almost transluscent, and he had no nose, with only slits for nostrils.

"So it was you, Gratan," he said quietly to the Zygon. "I thought as much, but I really hoped I was wrong."

With a jolt, the De-mat gun ripped itself from his grip and soared over to the wizard.

"A muggle weapon," the wizard spat. "Us wizards have no use for them Barty, you of all people should know that! Why did you have this device?" he demanded, tossing the De-mat fun to one side.

Professor Smith said nothing. The next moment, a searing wave of pain swept over him, digging into every nerve, tearing them apart, then putting them back together again, only to be torn apart once more; a million dalek extermination rays were hitting him, scrambling his internal organs, all while every regeneration was happening simultaneously; the Chameleon Arch was beginning to kick in; his head exploded in agony as the machine rewrote his biology -

The pain ceased as suddenly as it had begun. To his surprise, Professor Smith found himself on the ground, curled up in the fetal position. He was breathing heavily, his tongue hanging out of his mouth; his clothes were drenched in sweat.

"When I ask a question, I expect it to be answered, Barty," the wizard whispered contemptuously.

Professor Smith spoke, though with great difficulty, as every breath sent stabs of pain through his lungs. "I...didn't...know...you...were...talking...to...m e," he panted, climbing painfully to his feet.

The wizard raised his wand to curse the weakened Professor, but Gratan, held up back.

"Stand down, human," he hissed fiercely. "We need him sane...for now. Once he has outlived his usefullness, you may do what you wish to him."

The wizard lowered his wand, but not before an expression of fury flickered on his face, a detail that did not go unnoticed by Professor Smith. He recognised the expression as that of a man restraining himself. No doubt this wizard, whoever he was, resented Gratan's authority over him.

"Why? Why do all of this?" he asked the Zygon. "What do you need me for?"

"Why? Because the General is a weakling, that's why!" Gratan sneered. "The General should never have agreed to your demands for a ceasefire, nor should he have agreed to negotiate with you! He should have obliterated you and ever lousy human in the area!"

"So that's what this is all about, then," Professor Smith said, grinning despite the current situation. "You're the soldier who resents his superiors and thinks he knows better than any of them. There's always one in any military organisation."

Gratan hissed, but otherwise ignored the comment. "To answer your second question: you are her because the Council has remotely overridden the weapons systems after their beloved General lost control of the ship. You are going to restore control to us."

Professor Smith made up his mind in a flash. " No," he said immetiately.

_BANG!_

Professor Smith went flying backwards, landing on a control panel. Wincing, he slowly got up, pressing several buttons and pulling a few levers in the process.

"I don't think you quite understand the situation, Crouch," Voldemort said menacingly, approaching Professor Smith, wand raised. "I don't know what's happened to you in the past year, but you areno longer the loyal servant you once were. As such, you will soon find yourself facing the wrath of Lord Voldemort."

Professor Smith blinked. "Oh, you're Moldy-wart? Sorry, but I really, honestly did not know. And I'm not Crouch, I'm the Doctor."

"Such _lies_, Crouch," Voldemort hissed. "You should know it is futile to attempt to deceive Lord Voldemort!"

"He is not lying, human!" Gratan said impatiently. "As I told you when we first met two days ago, he is not Crouch. If you remembered this, you would not make yourself look foolish."

The Zygon paused, contemplating something. "I think a demonstration should be suitable, " he said eventually. "If you will not help us, you will have to be...persuaded."

He turned to Voldemort. "Bring them in."

Voldemort left the room.

Professor Smith was alarmed. From experience, he knew that demonstrations usually involved murder. "Demonstration, what demonstration?" he asked cautiously.

"A demonstration of what happens if you don't obey us," Gratan snapped as Voldemort re-entered the room with five aurors in tow. "So, will you enable the weapons systems?"

"No."

Gratan nodded to Voldemort, who raised his wand. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The first auror crumpled to the floor, dead.

"What did you do that for?" Professor Smith demanded, eyes going wide. He wasn't surprised, though. Murder, just like he'd predicted. "He was innocent, under your control. He couldn't defend himself!"

"And that is what makes it so delightful," Gratan hissed. "The fact that your precious humans will march so wilfully to their deaths! Now, enable the weapons systems!"

"No, I can't."

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The second auror fell.

"Enable the weapons systems!" Gratan shouted.

"Please, just let them go!"

A flash of green light; the third auror hit the floor.

"The weapons systems, Doctor!"

Professor Smith didn't answer, instead, he ran his hands though his hair, trying desperately to think of a way to stop the murders.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

_Thud_.

"Your final chance, Doctor," Gratan leered. "If you don't say yes, this man dies." He indicated the remaining auror. "How does it feel, knowing that four people have died only because you failed to say yes?"

Professor Smith closed his eyes, breathing heavily. "Fine," he said eventually. "I'll do it. Just release every auror from your control and get them off this ship. If you've got any zygons left here, teleport them to your mothership."

"You are not in a position to bargain, Crouch!" Voldemort hissed. "There will be no terms -"

"Stand down, human," Gratan ordered. He turned to Professor Smith. "You were wise to agree, Doctor," he said. "I shall do as you request." He went over to a console and activated a few controls.

The remaining auror collapsed.

"What have you done?" Professor Smith cried, rushing over to the prone body. The next moment, however, the auror disappeared in a cloud of blue sparks.

"He has been released from hypnosis and teleported outside," Gratan explained. "The other, traitorous members of my species have been teleported to the mothership."

"You give your word that you're telling the truth?" Professor Smith demanded, standing up.

"Yes."

"Okay...okay," Professor Smith said heavily, moving over to the controls that he knew were the weapons systems. "Just- just before I give you control of the weapons again, I'm curious to know why you'd let me, of all people, play with your controls. I mean, for all you know, I could close the air ducts, and shut the anti-grav feedback loop, which, given a couple of minutes, could blow this ship into a million billion pieces."

Gratan laughed. "I am not that stupid, Doctor!" he said. "The weapon controls are behind you, while the anti-grav reactor is controlled from over there..." he trailed off in horror. A memory replayed itself in his mind: Professor Smith flying throught the air and landing on the control panel, - the anti-grav control panel - and fiddling with the controls as he got up. He had closed the air ducts and shut the anti-grav feedback loop right under his nose, and had been playing for time ever since. A flashing red light confirmed his theories. The ship was about to explode.

Roaring in anger, Gratan whirled around and backhanded Professor Smith across the face. "You shall regret this, Doctor!" he shouted. "You may have won this battle, but the next will be your downfall!"

With one final glare at Professor Smith, Gratan picked up the De-mat Gun and ran out of the room.

Alarms began blaring; the room was bathed in red light.

"Enjoy death, Crouch," Voldemort said viciously, before he turned on the spot and disappeared with a loud crack.

As soon as the Dark Lord had vanished, Professor Smith scrambled to his feet and turned his attention to the control console once more. He hoped to be able to reopen the air ducts and anti-grav feedback loop in order to stop the explosion. Unfortunately, the feedback loops were too far gone, and the controls wouldn't respond. If only he had the sonic screwdriver!

"Oh, just my luck!" he muttered through gritted teeth. Giving up, he turned and left the bridge as fast as he could. He had to get out before the ship exploded!

The ship's comm. system kicked in.

"Warning, anti-grav reactor short circuit in sixty seconds!" a computerised voice announced.

Professor Smith teleported to the first floor.

"...forty-five seconds!"

"Come on, come on!" Professor Smith said desperately as he ran through the maze of corridors. There had to be an exit somewhere!

"...ten, nine, eight, seven..."

He finally found the exit door and pushed against it, but it wouldn't budge. Realising that Gratan and Voldemort must have sealed it from the outside, he rapidly searched his pockets, praying that there was something that he could use to escape, a spare sonic screwdriver, for instance. If not, then there was no way out. He was trapped.

"...three, two, one."

_KABOOM!_

The Zygon ship ignited in a ball of flame, instantly vaporising everything within a hundred metre radius. The shockwave from the explosion floored everything in a two kilometre radius; thousands of trees in the Forbidden Forest were felled, while the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower trembled before it succumbed to the might of the blast, collapsing completely on to the courtyard below. Shrapnel from the blast slammed into the other, smaller towers and spires of Hogwarts Castle, damaging the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw dormitories, while completely destroying the Headmaster's chambers. Spot fires broke out all over the grounds as burning debris rained down from the sky.

* * *

Outside, Harry, Hermione and Tonks had luckily escaped major injury. They had been directing about ninety-five very confused aurors to the castle when the ship had exploded, knocking them all to the ground. They stayed down for several more minutes until they were sure the worst of the explosion was over before they sat up, coughing.

"Bloody hell," Tonks swore, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the smoke. She looked around. It was like a scene out of one of her dad's apocalyptic movies: smoke, fire, debris...She winced as she spotted one or two unlucky aurors, speared by falling shrapnel. It appeared as though Madam Pomfrey would require a lot of assistance in the Hospital Wing.

By now, most of the smoke had cleared, enabling a full few of the grounds. As Harry, Hermione and Tonks stared around, one thing was very obvious.

"Where's Professor Smith?" Harry said worriedly.

All three glanced at each other.

"I think," Hermione said heavily, "that he was still in the Zygon ship when it exploded."

They looked at the burning wreckage of the Zygon vessel, stunned. Professor Smith was dead. They were on their own.

* * *

**Author Note: Cliffhanger! What will happen next? Is Professor Smith really dead? How did Tonks resist the Zygon hynosis device? Why does she remember Umbridge? Just a few questions for you to think about while waiting for the next update!**

**Kaioo: Yes, she is! This version is one of Clara's many lives.**

**SuOmAlAiNen92: Nope, not the Doctor, thankfully! Yes, your reasoning as to why Clara called out 'Doctor' is spot on. I'll explain why the Death Eaters rocked up in a later chapter, there's a very simple explanation for it, actually.**

**Guest: I think it would be safe to say that we all hate Umbridge!**

**TracyFace3: Thanks! I agree, but I can imagine that for a short amount of time, he would have considered killing her (like that moment in the Doctor's Daughter, when he holds the gun to General Cobb's head) before realising that making her suffer would be better. I like to think that, if Harry hadn't erased her, the Doctor would have given Umbridge a punishment similar to those of the Family of Blood.**

**Thanks! I don't actually research that much, actually. All the research I can remember doing for this story is looking up Zygons, the Winklegruber Neural Parameter Predictor and the De-mat gun up on the DW wiki, and checking a few things for Harry Potter accuracy as well. Apart from that everything's from memory!**

**Insanityisgood25: That's all right, just review when you can! I'm sorry you weren't happy with Umbridge's demise, but I've always felt that non-existence was the fate she deserved. I think one of the main reasons I erased her was because, in the original, Voldemort is the one who receives eternal punishment, and having that happen to teo different, unrelated people would kind of diminish the effect. In reqrite, though, I kept it because I liked it, and didn't want to stray from the original in that regard.**

**Yes, you're right about allons-y, I can never remember where the hyphen goes. I'll correct the previous chapter after this one goes up.**

**Thanks! And don't worry, we'll have 11 back by the end of the story.**

**I'm very happy Clara's death left a big impact, that's exactly what I was aiming for! Thanks!**

**Lovebugsalot: Err, #2 of what, exactly? I'm afraid I don't really understand what you're asking! Sorry!**

**Guest x2: O.O indeed!**


	17. Time Turners

**Chapter 16 – Time Turners**

Harry trudged into the Great Hall covered in ash, Hermione and Tonks behind him. They stared around at the sight that greeted them. Once again, the Hall had been converted into a makeshift hospital, with the injured lying along the walls, moaning, while the dead were given space at the back. Most of the injured were Hogwarts students who had been struck by falling stone that had been dislodged from the castle's brickwork as shrapnel from the Zygon ship collided with it. Aurors made up the rest of the casualties, and all of the fatalities.

"Harry!"

Harry turned wearily to see Dumbledore walking towards him. He was shocked to notice that Dumbledore's eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle; they appeared rather forlorn and lifeless, as if the constant death and destruction of the last few days was taking an immense toll on his will to live.

"Professor Smith's dead, Professor," said Harry, cutting straight to the point. "He was in that ship when it exploded, and we don't think he got out in time."

Dumbledore sighed. "I had feared that that was the case. Not that he'd been _in_ the ship. No, rather, that he was killed by it." He smiled sadly. "Thank you for telling me, Harry, I shall inform the staff." He patted Harry on the shoulder, then walked off in the direction of the staff common room.

Tonks bit her lip. "I'm just going to have a look here," she said worriedly. "You know – in case anyone I know is..." She trailed off, not wanting to voice the possibility that some of her friends were lying, unmoving, at the back of the Hall.

Harry glanced down at his robes, then at Hermione's. "We should get changed," he said. "We look filthy."

Hermione nodded in silent agreement, and together they began walking up to the Gryffindor common room. On the way, Harry reflected on the possible circumstances of Professor Smith's demise. Had he been captured, bound, then left in the ship while it was detonated remotely? Had the destruction of the ship been an act of sabotage, or a mere accident? Did Professor Smith know it was going to explode, or was it unexpected? If he knew it was going to happen, did he try and escape, or did he try and stop it, but ran out of time before he could?

Harry froze. Time...ran out of time...An idea began to form.

* * *

"Right, Katie's gone up to bed, so spill: how do we save him?" Ron asked Harry late that night. He, Hermione and Tonks were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Harry to tell them his idea on how to save Professor Smith. Ron had to admit that he was very hopeful, as he felt very guilty that he wasn't there when Professor Smith was teleplorted, or whatever to the Zygon ship, nor when it exploded. He blamed himself in a way; he thought that if he'd been there, nothing bad would have happened.

"Time turners," Harry said simply. "We break into the Ministry, steal a time turner, then go back a few hours and rescue Professor Smith.

Hermione leapt to her feet. "No."

"Sorry?"

"No, you can't do that, Harry," Hermione said. "Think of the consequences if you did something wrong, what would happen if you were _seen_? It's too risky. And besides, you'd be interfering with time itself!"

"How?" Harry asked, confused. "I'd be doing exactly what we did with Sirius and Buckbeak in third year!"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry, you wouldn't. We could only go back and save them because they'd already been saved. We didn't change history, we created it."

"But what if us going back to rescue Professor Smith creates history too? It's already happened, Hermione," Harry said crossly.

"Okay, then," Hermione said. "Where are you? If you have gone back in time, and have somehow managed to make sure both you and Professor Smith escape the explosion _unseen_, where are you?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "Somewhere downstairs, I would imagine."

"But that's just the point!" Hermione cried. "_You can't be seen_!"

Tonks sighed. "Relax, Hermione," she said. "If they're seen, it's not that big a deal anyway. No one will think twice – unless it's a Professor, and they'll only ask why Harry's downstairs, not up here sleeping. Being seen only matters if there's the risk of running into yourself or someone who saw you literally two seconds ago somewhere else. And even then, you're only in danger if your past self is stupid enough to try and attack you. There's no paradoxes or anything involved."

"But that goes against everything wizarding literature says on the subject! Everything McGonagall said two years ago!" Hermione said furiously. "You're doing what Professor Smith does:going against everything everyone says; you're contradicting the facts!"

Tonks snorted. "Isn't that basically what I do? Metamorphmagi – people who can change their entire bodies by the power of the mind. Isn't that 'contradicting the facts' of human biology?"

"That's different!" Hermione said defensively, but she had to admit that Tonks had a point. She'd have to research metamorphmagi sometime in the future.

Harry used Tonks' explanation of her opinion on the intricacies of time travel to drive home his point.

"See?" he said. "All I need to do is go back in time and save Professor Smith. I don't need to be worried about being seen at all, I just get there and get out."

"You're forgetting one thing though, mate," Ron said. "You want a time turner, right? Well, how are you going to get one? It's not like you can just stroll into the Ministry and take one off a shelf!"

"I'm sure we'll manage," Harry said dismissively.

"_We_?" Hermione said sharply. "Surely you don't think we're going too!"

"Well, yeah," said Harry. "You're coming with me, aren't you?"

Hermione and Ron shook their heads.

"No, Harry, we're not," said Hermione quietly. "I'm sorry, but you just can't seem to see that Professor Smith is dead, and nothing, not even time travel, will reverse that."

"Fine," said Harry, his temper rising. "If none of my _friends _will help me save our only hope of survival, I'll do it alone. I'll break into the Ministry and find the Time Turners. When Professor Smith and I walk through the portrait hole, you'll know I was right."

Hermione sighed in resignation. "Whatever, Harry. Just remember, if it all goes wrong, it's your fault, not ours."

"I'll go with you him," Tonks said unexpectedly, rolling her eyes. "He needs someone to watch him, and if you guys don't, he'll go by himself and get into trouble."

Harry bristled. "I don't _need_ anyone, Tonks. I can go by myself."

"No, Harry. You're only fifteen, there are some things you aren't capable of yet."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron interrupted him.

"She's right, Harry. You can't just go charging off to the Ministry by yourself. Plus, she's an auror, she'll know her way around."

Harry had to admit he had a point. "Fine," he said ungracefully. "We'll go tomorrow after breakfast. Goodnight."

He stalked off up to the boys' dormitories without another word.

Hermione sighed. "We'd better be getting to bed too," she said, stifling a yawn. "That's for going with him, Tonks. He can be really stubborn when he wants to."

"So can you, Hermione," Tonks grinned.

Hermione scowled as she walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"Night, Tonks," Ron said as he too disappeared upstairs.

"G'night, Ron," the auror replied. She remained seated for a few minutes before getting up, yawning and pushing open the portrait hole, heading for one of the castle's many spare bedrooms.

* * *

_He walked along the corridor, straight towards the single door at the end. His heart thumped in his chest and he reached out his hand..._

_The door opened! He walked into the room beyond, and large, circular construct, lined with many doors. He continued across to the one immediately opposite him and flung it open –_

_A Zygon stood behind it, grinning evilly, clutching a time turner. It raised a weapon, aimed briefly, and fired._

Harry's eyes shot open. Another dream of the long, dark corridor, the same one Mister Weasley had been attacked in! But why was the Zygon there? Why was it holding a time turner? Frowning, Harry closed his eyes, and was asleep within minutes. When he awoke several hours later, the dream could only be sparingly recalled.

* * *

Harry and Tonks were unable to enact their plan at all the next day, as both were given jobs to help make the Hall suitable for eating in again, as the injured aurors had all been transferred to either the Hospital Wing or Saint Mungos. As such, Harry and Tonks changed their plans; they would leave the following day instead. So, at half-past twelve in the afternoon, two days after he first formulated his plans, Harry met Tonks outside Hogwarts' gates.

"Ready, Harry?" Tonks asked.

Harry nodded.

Tonks stuck out her hand. "Side-along apparition," she explained, noticing his confusion. "You're too young to apparate, obviously, so I can take you along with me." She wriggled her fingers. "Come on, you don't want to be late, do you?"

Feeling rather nervous, Harry grasped Tonks' hand. A second later, the world around them vanished, and Harry found himself travelling what felt like a rubbery tube; he was being compressed from all sides, he couldn't breathe –

As suddenly as it had begun, the sensation stopped. Dimly aware that he'd just apparated for the first time, Harry took in his surroundings. He and Tonks were in an alley way in the middle of London, and if he had to guess, they weren't far from the Ministry.

Harry felt Tonks' wand rap on his head, and the sensation of the disillusionment charm as it made its way down his body.

"What's this for?" he asked, staring down at what used to be his clothes, but was now the texture of the alley wall behind him.

"We can't just waltz into the Ministry without concealing ourselves, silly," Tonks said as she applied the disillusionment charm to herself. "The cleaners'd be onto us in seconds."

"But doesn't the Ministry have enchantments and charms that detect concealment? "

Tonks snorted. "'Course not. I don't believe it has since You-Know-Who was defeated. Fudge believes the Ministry to be impenetrable and completely safe from anyone or anything."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Tell that to Voldemort's snake."

Tonks grinned. "And the Order. Besides, it's not even working hours yet, there'll be barely anyone around."

They apparated into the Minsitry, and luckily for them, no one appeared to hear the loud crack they emitted as they arrived. They quietly crept to the elevators, and breathed a sigh of relief once the Atrium was out of sight.

"What department are the time turners in?" Harry asked as the elevator they were in sped backwards.

"Dunno," Tonks admitted, "but there are rumours that the Department of Mysteries is experimenting on time, so I figured that'd be the best place to start.

The elevator halted, before plummeting downwards. A few seconds later, the lift stopped again.

"Level Nine, Department of Mysteries," the cool, soothing female Ministry voice stated.

The elevator grille opened to reveal one, long dark corridor with a solitary door at the end.

Harry froze. "Hang on," he said. "I've seen this place before...this is where Mister Weasley got attacked by Voldemort's snake!" It was also, he realised with a jolt, the same corridor that he had dreamed of for the last few months – the ones where he was desperate to open the door at the end. He remained silent, however; he didn't feel like sharing that information just yet.

Tonks paused, before hesitantly replying, "If you must know, the Order thinks Voldemort's after something down here."

"A weapon?"

"No, something worse. Come on, the sooner we're done here, the better." she said.

The pair cautiously exited the lift and walked quietly down the corridor.

"Alright, here goes," Harry said nervously, and he reached for the handle. He was about to find out what lay behind the doors – though he had a suspicious feeling he already knew. Shrugging the feeling off, he turned the handle and pushed. Miraculously, the door swung open without a sound. Walking through the doorway, Harry and Tonks found themselves in a circular room, with doors embedded at regular intervals along the edge.

The memories of Harry's dream that night came rushing back.

"I had a dream of this place a few nights ago," Harry said slowly. "It's weird, I know, but there was a Zygon behind that door straight ahead."

Tonks turned her head sharply to look at him - not that he noticed. She was disillusioned after all.

"I did too," she said, frowning. "It was of a time turner, which turned into a zygon."

Harry pondered this revelation, remembering the similar dreams he, Hermione and Tonks had had at Grimauld Place, showing them the zygon before it appeared later that same day. Were the dreams a warning? Would a zygon turn up when they found the time turners? No, that wouldn't happen, he decided. They were all at Hogwarts.

"It's probably nothing," he said eventually.

Tonks remained unconvinced, but she let the subject drop.

"Let's go straight ahead," Harry said, and he marched up to the door immediately opposite, and with only a moment's hesitation, opened it.

Harry knew immediately that he'd chosen the right door. The room beyond was rather small, but the walls were lined with beautiful antique cabinets, the lower halves of which were carved with intricate, ornate patterns. The top halves had glass windows, along him to gaze up the time tuners contained within, their hour-glass shape causing them to sparkle in the dim light.

Tonks lifted their disillusionment charms as they entered the room.

"These are beautiful," she said in amazement, moving closer to inspect one of the cabinets. She frowned. "Harry, have a look at this."

Harry came over and followed her gaze.

"No!" he gasped. He took his glasses off and cleaned them furiously before jamming them back on his face. But there was no change. Professor Smith's original form was clearly engraved on the cabinet; the carved figure even wore a bow tie!

"Maybe Hermione was right," he said slowly. "Maybe Professor Smith can travel in – oof!"

Harry was slammed to the ground mid-sentence, knocking the breath out of him. Tonks reacted immediately, whipping out her wand and sending a few stunners towards their assailant. However, the mysterious attacker was too quick, and he easily dodged Tonks' spells before throwing something at her feet. The object sat inactive on the floor for a brief second, before shooting a column of gas right into her face.

"What the -?" she spluttered, before collapsing, convulsing sickeningly.

"Freeze, human," hissed a voice, and Harry rolled onto his back to see a zygon staring down at him, a weapon in its hand.

With a shock, he realised that his dream had been correct after all; a zygon had shown up when they'd found the time turners! But what was the cause of the dreams? Was someone sending them messages from the future? If so, who?

Harry gulped. "What have you done with Tonks?" he demanded. He couldn't let her be dead; he'd essentially forced her to come...

"She has inhaled some nerve gas, she will revive presently," the zygon said, and Harry sighed in relief. "As for what I want...the answer is the eradication of all human life on this planet, and the establishment of a new zygon civilisation!"

"Why? What have we done to you?"

"Nothing, but your species is so pathetic it does not deserve to survive. Zygons are superior! We will colonise this planet; it will be Zygor Two!"

"What are you in here for, anyway? What do the zygons want with time turners?" Harry asked, playing for time. Hopefully, the nerve gas would not last long, and Tonks would wake up.

The zygon scowled. "We have found ourselves in the unfortunate position where we do not have an army. We need one of these primitive 'time turners', so I infiltrated this establishment on the advice of my...associate. By luck, you and the female blundered in, leading me straight to where I needed to go."

"'We?," Harry said sharply. "Who are you working with?"

The zygon ignored him, instead reaching behind its back and unclipping a device, which it attached to the side of one of the time turner cabinets.

"How did you see us?" Harry continued. "We were under disillusionment charms!"

The zygon rolled its eyes. "Zygon eyesight is superior to a human's. I could see both of you clearly.

Harry groaned. "You'll never get out of here," he said through gritted teeth, changing subject. "You said it yourself, Tonks'll revive soon; she'll stop you from escaping."

"Idiot human," the zygon sneered. "You forget, we zygons have vastly superior technology to your primitive particle emitters! My temporary ally is currently preparing to teleport both me and one of these cabinets away."

"Liar," spat Harry. "This place is covered in anti-disapparition charms, whoever you're working with will never be able get you out."

The zygon made a sound that could only be described as scornful laughter. "Teleportation is not 'disapparition', whatever that is," it said. "Teleportation involves the breaking down of an object or body into its individual atoms, which are then transported across space to a receiver. No 'charm' is going to stop that from occurring."

"How will your accomplice know which cabinet to, err, teleport away? Or you, for that matter?" Harry asked, playing for time. Come on, Tonks, wake up!

"The teleport is keyed to my molecular structure, while the cabinet has a transponder attached to it," the zygon replied, indicating the device he had just placed on the cabinet.

"Okay...why do you want the time turners anyway? I forgot."

Tonks' fingers twitched.

The zygon laughed. "Just how stupid do you think I am, human? I've already told you why we need them, and I'm not going to my repeat myself. You'll have to figure it out yourself – if you make it out of here alive."

Tonks' eyelids began to flutter as blue spark clustered around the zygon and the cabinet.

"Ah, it is almost time for me to depart. But before I go, a word of advice: run!" the zygon leered, before disappearing in a haze of blue light.

"No!" shouted Harry, but it was too late. The zygon and the cabinet had gone, only to be replaced by...

_Beep, beep, beep, beep._

Despite having almost negligible knowledge of the muggle world, apart from his experiences from his first nine years of life, Harry knew a bomb when he saw one. As such, he stared in horror at the spherical object sitting where the cabinet had been. Uttering several expletives, he hurried over to Tonks and shook her furiously.

"Tonks, come on, wake up!" he said desperately.

Tonks groaned and opened her eyes. "Wazzgoinon?" she mumbled, blinking furiously.

"We need to get out of here. Now."

"Why?" the auror asked, before noticing the beeping device. "Merlin!" she cried, scrambling to her feet. Grabbing Harry's hand, she pulled him out of the room. "How the bloody hell did a grenade get down here?" she asked as they tore through the circular antechamber.

"Zygons," Harry said, and Tonks nodded.

They were halfway down the long, dark corridor when Harry skidded to a halt.

"Look, we can't hang around here!" Tonks said urgently. "We need to get in the elevator!"

"I forgot the time turner!"Harry said. He turned to run back to the time turner room to get one, but Tonks held him back.

"No time," Tonks said grimly. "Quick, in the elevator."

But there was no elevator; the grille opened to reveal nothing but an empty shaft.

Tonks swore. "It must have been called somewhere else," she said furiously. "Another won't get here in time..."

She and Harry turned to look back down the corridor.

_BOOM!_

The grenade in the time turner room exploded, sending a massive fireball hurtling down the corridor.

Harry stared in shock as the fireball rapidly closed the space between them. He couldn't move, the fireball was going to go straight through him –

"GET DOWN!" Tonks yelled, pushing Harry to the ground.

Harry winced as he hit the smooth, cold tiles, and raised his head slightly to see what was going on. Tonks was standing, her wand raised, pointing at the approaching fireball. Just when Harry thought that she was going to be burnt to death, the fireball impacted the shield charm Tonks had conjured in the nick of time. The charm was of a variety Harry hadn't seen before; it appeared to be made of water, as it took on a very fluid appearance, and reflected the bright light of the fireball. Whatever it was, it was working, as the fireball was being progessively extinguished with a loud hiss. The effort to maintain the shield was taking its toll on Tonks, however, as her face was screwed up in concentration, and her wand arm was shaking uncontrollably.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tonks lowered her wand, the fireball completely extinguished.

"You alright, Harry?" she said, looking very exhausted. She collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Yeah," Harry replied shakily. He looked back down the corridor. All he could see was a large pile of rubble, presumably the remains of the antechamber and the time tuner room. He groaned. "I'm not looking forward to getting through that," he said.

"Why would you want to get through that mess?" Tonks asked.

"To get a time turner, of course!"

Tonks shook her head. "Harry, they'll have all been destroyed by an explosion of that size! I'm sorry, but there's no chance of getting one now."

Harry sighed. He knew Tonks was right, there was nothing else he could do to rescue Professor Smith now.

"Fine," he said crossly. "Let's get out of here, then."

"Just a minute!" the auror panted. "Need a moment to catch my breath."

Harry waited impatiently while she did so.

Finally, Tonks stood up. "Grab my arm," she said, "we'll be able to apparate out now, the anti-disapparition charms will have collapsed after the explosion."

Harry took hold of her arm, and she turned on the spot.

* * *

They reappeared just outside of Hogwarts, almost in exactly the same spot that they had disapparated from about half an hour ago.

"Oof!" Harry groaned, as his feet met the ground. He wasn't quite sure that he was comfortable with the sensation of apparition. He hoped it was something he could get used to and tolerate, especially if it was going to become a frequent form of transportation

"Sorry about the rough landing," Tonks apologised. "Apparition needs a lot of concentration."

"Never mind," Harry said. "Let's just get back to Hogwarts."

Tonks nodded, and they began walking up the path to the castle. However, by the time they reached the covered bridge, they knew something was wrong.

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked, frowning. "The clock tower courtyard's usual filled with people on a Saturday, even during meal times."

"Maybe they're all inside," Tonks suggested.

"I suppose, especially after yesterday, but still...weird."

They continued walking, and their suspicions were further aroused when they saw no one hanging out under the clock tower, nor in the third floor corridor. By the time they had descended to the second floor, even Tonks had to admit that something was amiss.

"You'd think that someone would be walking around," she grumbled. "I vote we check the Great Hall. Someone's guarenteed to be there."

They slowly made their way to the Great Hall. As they walked through the deserted corridors, Harry couldn't help but wonder whether the disappearing populace of the school was a result of something malicious - the zygons sprang to mind, particularly after the encounter in the Ministry.

It appeared as if Tonks was thinking about a similar subject, as a moment later, she asked, "Harry, what happened while I was unconscious in the Ministry?"

"A zygon stole a time turner," Harry replied. "It teleported out and left a grenade behind."

"What?" Tonks cried. "Why didn't you tell me? If one of those things has got its hand on a time turner, who knows what it could do!"

"I was going to, but in case you didn't notice, we've been a bit busy," Harry shot back. He sighed. "Come on, the sooner we find out what's going here, the better."

A few minutes later, they were finally in the Entrance Hall. As the approached the Great Hall, they could hear the sound of voices from within.

"Thank Merlin," Tonks said in relief. "I was beginning to think something was wrong."

"Telling me," Harry grumbled. He walked up the doors and pushed them open.

"There he is! There's Potter!" someone shouted excitedly.

Harry turned to see a stunner burst from the speaker's wand and head straight towards him. Before he even had time to register what was happening, the spell had crossed the distance between him and the caster –

Only for it to dissipate harmlessly against the shield charm Tonks had conjured at the last second.

"Get the boy!" hissed a high, cold voice.

Robed men charged at Harry and Tonks from all directions, converging on the two, sending spells their direction.

It was at this moment that Harry realised why Tonks was an auror. She reacted immediately to the onslaught, deflecting the initial wave of stunners back at their opponents. Most of the deflected spells were blocked, but some managed to slip past the mens' shield charms and knock them unconscious. Tonks then went on the offensive: whirling her wand so fast it was a blur, she drew the flames from all the candles in the Hall to her wand; with a flick, the fire formed a barrier around the approaching men. Taking advantage of the distraction, Tonks fired stunners at the men. All of them found their mark.

However, she had only managed to take out the first dozen or so of the robed men, and at least forty more were heading their way. Yet Tonks did not back down, and she engaged all of them in combat, dodging and blocking spells, while at the same time still managing to find time to go on the offensive.

Harry watched her take on the mysterious figures, his mouth wide open. He knew Tonks was an auror, but he'd never imagined her in a situation like this, outnumbered, but holding her own. The way she fought was incredible, it was like she was someone else entirely, some one who just happened to identical to her in appearance.

Harry shook himself out of his daze and withdrew his own wand, preparing to help Tonks fight off their unknown assailants. Tonks noticed his movement, and shook her head.

"No, Harry, you can't stay," she shouted, dodging a body-bind curse. "They're after you; you need to run. Get to Hogsmeade and summon the Knight Bus, you'll be safe then."

"But what about you?" Harry said. "I can't just leave you!"

One of their attackers managed to dodge Tonks stunner, and leered over her, grinning madly. Tonks wasted no time, and floored the man with a well placed punch to the head.

"I appreciate the saving-people thing," she said, summoning several plates from one of the House tables, and sending them flying at one of the men. "But you're more important than me. Now, go!"

"_Incarcerous!_"

The ropes appeared out of mid air and wrapped themselves around Tonks. The auror struggled against her bonds, but it was no use; she lost her balance and toppled to the ground.

"Run, Harry!" Tonks cried desperately.

Needing no further persuasion, Harry turned to run, but a second later, he found himself on the ground, thick rope around his legs.

"Bring them here," said the high, cold voice.

Harry hastily attempted to loosen the rope around his legs, but it was no use. Two of the men grabbed his arms and began dragging him up to the other end of the Hall, to the staff tables. Harry stared around at the Hall as he was dragged between the tables. The students were all seated as usual, but all, with the exception of the Slytherins, wore expressions of extreme terror. Turning his attention to the staff tables, Harry realised with a jolt, that all the teachers, bar Snape, were gagged and bound to their chairs, unable to move. It appeared as if there unknown assailants had snuck in during lunch and taken control of the school by surprise.

With a grunt, Tonks was dumped unceremoniously in front of the Hufflepuff table. A few of the Seventh, Sixth and Fifth years appeared to recognise her, as their eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

Harry was dropped at the head of the Gryffindor table a second later.

"Ah, Harry, at last," the voice said, and Harry turned towards it, and recoiled immediately. Voldemort was staring down at him, his mouth stretched into a cruel smile. Harry's mind was in a whir. If Voldemort was here, that meant that the robed men, their attackers, were the Death Eaters! But how? Everyone had told him that all the Death Eaters had been killed by the zygons. So how were they here as well?

"What do you want?" he spat.

"Merely to finish what I set out to do nearly fifteen years ago," Voldemort replied, circling the boy at his feet. "Your friend put up a good fight, but in the end, she was overpowered by the power of Lord Voldemort." He gestured around at the Hall. "How very fitting that your fellow students and teachers will watch as, after fifteen long years, your borrowed time finally expires."

"No!" Hermione shrieked. "Leave him alone!"

_Bang!_

Hermione fell silent

"Such bravery," tutted Voldemort, smiling cruelly at Hermione, before turning his attention back to Harry. "And now, Harry Potter, you shall die." He raised his wand. "_Avada –_"

A faint wheezing, groaning sound echoed through the Great Hall.

Voldemort lowered his wand, and glared around the Hall, trying to locate the source of the disturbance.

"What is that sound?" he hissed.

The Death Eaters looked at each other and shrugged.

The students gasped, and several pointed to the middle of the Hall. A light hung in midair, in between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. The wheezing, groaning sound rose to a crescendo as a blue box slowly faded into existence under the light, solidifying with a final thud.

The Death Eaters blinked. Voldemort stared at it in confusion.

The doors squeaked open and a head popped out.

"Hello, Harry," Professor Smith said, grinning goofily. "Did you miss me?"

* * *

**Author note: The Doctor's alive! Hooray! Which isn't surprising at all really, considering how much plot armour he has!  
**

**As you hopefully noticed, this chapter is the most Doctor-lite chapter we've had in ages. And for those of you worrying about the destruction of the time turner room and the circular antechamber, don't fret, the Ministry rebuilds them, and they're there when Harry and co. arrive to save Sirius later in the year.**

**Also, the story has now received 100 reviews! Thanks a lot guys! Because of the milestone, as a special treat, I'm giving you all the opportunity to ask me a question - any question - about the sequel, which I will answer honestly, if, and only if, the answer does not spoil any major plot points. So, bring on the questions!**

**Replies to reviews:**

**aronpuma: Yes, Hufflepuffs are overlooked quite a lot, especially in the books. Tonks is one of my favourite characters, so I had to have her in this story...she's awesome, as I hoped I showed in this chapter.  
**

**Haven Wood: Thanks! Yeah, I kind of agree with you about Harry's behaviour, but I still think it's justifiable, especially after all that's happened to him in the last few days, plus it's Umbridge, plus she murdered someone right in front of him. Thanks! And yes, this is the first time the Doctor consciously encounters one of Clara's echoes. The story's set before Asylum of the Daleks, so he hasn't met Oswin yet. Thanks again!**

**Traceyface3: Yes, 11 will be coming back - in the next chapter, I might add. And the Doctor's identity won't really be revealed. People will see him do stuff, and Dumbledore will approach him for explanations, but in true Doctor style, he ignores the requests and leaves as soon as he can. Thanks!**

**Insanityisgood25: Cliffhangers! ;) Why can Tonks remember? Good question; I'm not answering it! (yet!). Was her dad a companion? Maybe, I don't know (well, I do!). He might have, he might not. Don't worry, you'll get some answers in this story - some, mind you - the rest will have to wait for the sequel!**

**Sakura Lisel: Thanks for reviewing! I'd like to direct you to my reply (the Chapter 9 author's note) to a similar criticism of the same passage, as it addresses all of your points. Although it applies to Hermione and Ron specifically, I think they could apply to basically anyone.**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: 10 now sounds like 10? Good, that's what I intended (it'll be explained why later). And yes, as you know by now, this chapter was very Doctor-lite, though the next chapter isn't.  
**


	18. The End of the War

**Chapter 17 – The End of the War**

Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"You're – you're alive!" he choked.

"I was the last time I looked," Professor Smith said, stepping out of the blue box. "Mouldy-wart," he said, acknowledging Voldemort with a nod. He looked round the Hall, taking in the details of the situation, before he turned back to the Dark Lord, clearly impressed.

"Quite a feat," he said, "taking over Hogwarts. Not many people can manage to do that when one of the most powerful wizards in history is headmaster of the school. But then again," he added, "in all fairness, you only managed it because all the protective enchantments are down. So thank the zygons for that!" He grinned. "But where is your zygon buddy, eh? I'd have thought he'd be here, sharing in the glory. 'Cos zygons like doing that, the glory of a victory. Not as much as the Sontarans though, they're way over the top, but the zygons like a bit of a celebration too." He strolled up to Voldemort, hands in pockets. "So come on, bring him out. I'm curious to know how you managed to get all these guys here," he indicated the Death Eaters, "especially after they all died a few days ago."

Silence. Then;

"The zygon is dead," Voldemort said calmly, without a hint of remorse. "I killed him after he had served his purpose."

Professor Smith sighed. "Yes, of course you did," he muttered. "Killing, it's all you do, isn't it, Mouldy? 'Cos I've heard a lot about you, how you're the darkest Dark Lord in ages, murder innocents, want immortality, blah blah, bing bang bosh. But you know what I reckon? I reckon you're just the stereotypical megalomaniac. You want unlimited power, worldwide domination, to enforce your beliefs, eternal life. There's nothing special there, just the same recycled rubbish I've been dealing with for the last thousand odd years. But enough of me, you must be sick of me going on and on and on and on and on. So questions, fire away!"

"Words, so many words, Crouch," Voldemort hissed. "Before I kill you, however, there is one thing I would like to know: how did you escape that craft before it exploded?"

"Well," Professor Smith said, unwrapping something from his wrist. "I must admit, I kinda cheated. I remembered I had this thing in my pocket, so I used it to get away." He waved a device in front of Voldemort's face. It was the vortex manipulator that his future self had given him in Azkaban.

"A muggle device?" Voldemort said in surprise.

"Ah, but not just any muggle device," Professor Smith said knowingly. "This, Mouldy, is a vortex manipulator, a time travel device from the fifty-first century that works by -" He stopped and frowned. "As a matter of fact, I'm not sure how it works," he said. "I'll have to look into it soon. But anyway," he continued, "vortex manipulators allow cheap and nasty time travel, but they also allow short range teleportation, like this," he said, and pressed the button. He disappeared in a flash of light, and reappeared next to the Slytherin table. "And this." He appeared back at the front of the Hall.

Whispers broke out among the students. As far as they were concerned, they had just seen someone apparate within Hogwarts, a feat they thought impossible. The whispers were soon stopped by several bangs from a Death Eater's wand.

"Right, you've had your question, now I've got mine," Professor Smith said. "How did you take over Hogwarts?"

Voldemort laughed. "My Death Eaters casted disillusionment charms on themselves, and we moved into the Hall when the school was having lunch. We surrounded them, then revealed ourselves. No one could resist."

"Fair enough," said Professor Smith, "but then again, it only worked because the protective enchantments were down." He put the vortex manipulator back in his pocket. "Right," he said, suddenly serious. "To business."

The next moment, there was a whirring sound, and a loud bang; smoke wafted from Voldemort's robes.

Professor Smith lowered the sonic screwdriver, looking determinedly at Voldemort.

"What have you done!" Voldemort cried, taking a device out of his robes, before hurriedly dropping it; it was very hot.

"Reversed the paradox," Professor Smith said, his voice hard and grim, not like the light and playful tone it had been a few seconds earlier. "Look around the Hall."

Voldemort did so, and his eyes burned with fury.

Wincing as Voldemort's intense emotion was relayed through his scar, Harry followed his gaze, and, to his astonishment, saw that each and every one of the Death Eaters were vanishing as what seemed like the very _fabric_ of the world around them rippled.

Professor Smith bent over and picked up the device Voldemort had dropped. "Do you know what this is?" he demanded, throwing it rapidly from hand to hand so it wouldn't burn him. "It's a miniature paradox machine. Your zygon friend constructed it out of a time turner, a time-space visualiser, a time reverser, and by the looks of it, the De-mat gun that he stole from me. It allowed you to go back in time and rescue your army and bring them here without disrupting the causal nexus." He threw the object aside. "I short circuited it, paradox reversed, your men are flung back to when you collected them. Now, you stay there, I'm going to talk to Harry!"

Professor Smith turned to walk the short distance to the young Gryffindor.

_BANG!_

Voldemort's spell hit Professor Smith in the back, and Professor Smith went flying, landing painfully on the Gryffindor table. Several students screamed, and moved backwards, while some older students, emboldened by the disappearance of the Death Eaters, moved forward, their wands raised, only to be similarly blasted back by Voldemort. The teachers' eyes widened at this display of violence towards their students, and they began struggling in earnest to free themselves of their bonds.

Snape watched the situation unfold. He wanted to protect the students, but that would mean his days as spy for the Order of the Phoenix were over. And if he helped Voldemort, the students would never trust him again. In a flash, he made up his mind, and quietly slipped behind the staff table, and began to loosen Professor Vector's bonds.

_BANG!_

Professor Smith landed on the Hufflepuff table, and the sonic screwdriver clattered to the ground, only to be destroyed a second later by a well aimed reductor curse.

_BANG!_

The science teacher was sent flying into the doors at the end of the Hall.

"I have grown tired of your incessant interfering, Crouch," Voldemort sneered. "Not so long ago, you were my most devoted servant, but now, you seek to thwart my every plan."

_BANG!_

Several Ravenclaws shrieked as he landed on top of them.

_BANG!_

Snape finished cutting through Professor Vector's bonds and began working on the rope binding Professor Sinistra...

_BANG!_

Professor Smith landed right next to Voldemort with a painful thud. He tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out, and he collapsed, breathing heavily.

"People of Hogwarts!" Voldemort declared. "See what happens to those who defy Lord Voldemort."

Harry struggled valiantly to free himself from the ropes binding him, but it was no use, they were too strong. This did not deter him, though, and he continued to wriggle as he watched Voldemort point his wand threateningly at his science teacher. Professor Smith was going to be murdered, right in front of him, in front of the entire school, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, inexplicably, Professor Smith looked up and caught Harry's eye. _He winked_.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" screamed Voldemort. Green light burst from his wand and covered the distance from him to Professor Smith in less than a second. The green energy furled around Professor Smith, the momentum sending him flying a short distance.

Voldemort smiled in cruel satisfaction. The action was over; he had won.

Professor Smith groaned.

The entire school drew a collective breath. _He was alive._

"The thing is," Professor Smith said, wincing as he stood up. Bolts of green energy were still wrapped around his body, dissipating rapidly. "The thing is," he said again, "that particular spell is only a highly focused stream of charged particles travelling through a magic field. And while that particular dosage is lethal to humans, _I'm not human_."

A faint golden energy began sneaking out of Professor Smith's shirt collar and sleeve ends.

Voldemort's eyes widened. "What are you?" he said, actually taking a step back.

"Time Lord," Professor Smith replied calmly, before leaning backwards, arms outstretched. The golden energy erupted from his collar and sleeves, spiralling some distance into the air before fading away. With bated breath, the students and teachers of Hogwarts watched as the man's spiky brown hair lengthened and darkened; as the nose and chin grew bigger, as the sideburns disappeared.

With a final surge, the golden energy dissipated, and there stood Professor Smith, the _real_ Professor Smith, with a long fringe of dark hair, and a young, boyish face.

"Whoa, hello everyone!" Professor Smith beamed around at the shocked crowd. "Gosh, it's nice to be back. Couldn't stand being my old self again; I hate repeats."

Giving the students one final, dazed grin, he turned around and faced Voldemort. The Dark Lord was rooted to the spot, too shocked to move.

"How did you change bodies?" he demanded. "Where can I gain these abilities? Tell me know, fool, or you will be destroyed!"

Professor Smith rolled his eyes. "You can't _get_ regeneration, that would be ridiculous!" he said. "It's a natural ability for my people, we're born with it." He paused, and frowned. "Well, I suppose you could gain regeneration by inhaling the bio-essence of a Time Lord when they're confined to a Chameleon Arch receptacle," he said, before laughing. "But you're not going to find one in the universe, let alone here!"

His expression hardened. "Now, after everything you've done, you're lucky that I'm even offering you this chance, so I'd take it," he told Voldemort. "Basically, run."

Voldemort hissed. "You dare," he said. "You dare to order Lord Vo -" He broke off as Professor Smith inclined his head to the student body. Every single Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff student, plus one or two Slytherins, had taken out their wand and was pointing it at him. Chairs scraped behind him; he turned to see all the teachers aiming their wands at him, with the exception of Snape, who was being backed up against the wall by Hagrid.

This was all the encouragement Voldemort needed, and he turned on the spot and disapparated without another word, silently vowing revenge. His first port of call would be Azkaban; he was rather short on followers. Once his most loyal Death Eaters had been released, he could focus on that strange goldem 'Time Lord' energy...

* * *

Although everyone knew that Voldemort had escaped, it hadn't stopped the students finding an excuse for celebration, and after a desperate plea by the Weasley twins, the teachers had finally relented, and had organised a feast. Several hours later, though, it seemed that they too were enjoying themselves, and had forgotten to put a stop to it.

Professor Smith had joined in with a great enthusiasm, and after he had moved the TARDIS back to classroom six, he demonstrated his dancing skills, much to the delight of the younger year levels. The older students, on the other hand, all raised incredulous eyebrows, and threw looks at each other that asked 'is he serious?'

Eventually, though, Professor Smith grew tired of the dancing, and slipped out of the Hall quietly. Now that the zygons were no longer a threat, and Mouldy-wart had run away, there was no real need for him to remain at Hogwarts any longer. All he had to do was to visit the zygons and complete the paradox loop that made him return to Hogwarts to face Mouldy-wart when he had.

"Come on, old girl," he said, as he inserted the TARDIS key into the lock. "Time to go."

"Go? Where are you going?"

Professor Smith turned to see Harry, Hermione and Tonks standing in the doorway to classroom six.

"Away," he said, shrugging. "No more zygons, no more Mouldy-wart...you don't need me."

"Yes, we do," Hermione said. "Dumbledore wants to talk to you, and no doubt the Ministry will as well. Then we've got to fix up the castle and the forest, do our exams. Of course we need you!"

"Not to mention there's a few question we'd like to ask you, too," Ron said.

Professor Smith paused, shut the TARDIS door, and turned to face the four humans. Should he answer their questions? Yes, he should, some of them at least. Not too many, though, he wanted to get away!

"Questions? Okay then, what do you want to know?"

"Why didn't the avada kedavra kill you?" Tonks blurted out. "I mean, it _is_ the killing curse, and it's meant to be unblockable."

"Well, as you know, I'm not human, I'm an alien," Professor Smith replied. "Basically, whenever my species is mortally wounded, we literally change our bodies and personalities to survive. There are only a few things in existence that stop the process from happening, a dose of charged particles isn't one of them."

"But you didn't need to die, did you?" Hermione asked. "You could've found a different way to defeat Voldemort."

"Well, yes, now you mention it. But the lingering effects of the time reverser would have eventually erased any memories that this body had experienced, essentially meaning that this version of me would never have existed. By regenerating, I stopped the memory wipe from occurring."

There was an awkward silence, before Ron piped up.

"What's happening with the zygon things, then?" he asked. "Are they leaving, or -?"

"Oh, they're leaving in the lake," Professor Smith said promptly. "Don't worry, they'll be quite peaceful."

"But you can't just arrange for an alien species to live here!" Tonks protested. "You have to go through the Ministry, and they have to be registered and everything!"

Professor Smith frowned. "The Ministry is not the boss of me," he said sternly. "As far as the zygons are concerned, they're living in the lake, no matter what the Ministry says."

"But the Ministry -"

"What the Ministry doesn't know, can't hurt them," Professor Smith grinned. "So don't tell them!"

He stood up. "Right, if that's all the questions, then I better be going. I've got things to do, places to go, people to see. Might pop in to say hello to the Ponds, I haven't seen them for a while, not since Christmas. Actually, I'm still late for that biplane lesson, I never did get around to it...No, wait, still got to take a short hop up to zygon land, give the General my sonic screwdriver, tell him to tell me some stuff when I get there again..." He whirled around and walked up to Tonks. "Screwdriver, please," he said.

Harry frowned. "You mean your wand? But Voldemort destroyed it in the Hall."

"I agree."

"So...how does Tonks have it?"

Professor Smith looked at their confused expressions in amazement. How could they not understand, it was simple!

"Come on," he said exasperatedly. "It's not hard. Tonks has the screwdriver, I take it to zygons, zygons give it to past me, past me takes it to Hall, it gets destroyed. The sonic screwdriver I used earlier is a future version of the one Tonks has. The zygons gave it to me when I vortex manipulatored there just before the ship exploded."

"Err, right..." Ron said, still confused.

Tonks smirked. "Don't worry, I understand you," she said, taking the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket and giving it to Professor Smith, who smiled and chucked it in the air before catching it.

"Right, time to go!" he said, placing the screwdriver carefully in his pocket. "I'll guess I'll see you all another time then, hopefully in the near future. Well, that depends on your definition of 'near future'. Near future for me could be a hundred years, but only, I dunno, twenty for you -"

"Professor, you're rambling," Hermione interjected, an amused smile playing across her lips.

"Right, yes, sorry," Professor Smith said. He pushed open the TARDIS door, and made to enter it.

"Wait, Professor, there is one other thing," Harry said hurriedly.

Grumbling under his breath, Professor Smith once again closed the TARDIS doors. "Yes?"

"Well, um," Harry began. "It's just that me, Hermione and Tonks have had dreams about the zygons before they showed up. I mean," he continued. "The night before you came to Grimauld Place and found out Ron was a zygon, all three of us dreamt about the zygon, what it looked like, and then a few hours later, one turned up."

"Hang on, you had dreams?" Ron said, surprised. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Slipped our minds," Hermione said quickly.

"Not bloody likely," Ron muttered, but he let the subject drop.

"Anyway," said Harry. "A few nights before Tonks and I went to the Ministry, we both had a dream about a zygon and a time turner, and when we got to the Ministry, a zygon appeared, and he wanted a time turner."

Professor Smith looked thoughtfully at Harry. "I dunno, but it's some sort of psychic message, which seems to be able to predict the future. Could be a rift, or a crack, but it's not; I'd know...Ooh!"

"What?" Hermione asked eagerly. She was rather eager to find out what had been the cause of their dreams.

"TARDIS telepathic circuit," Professor Smith said proudly, patting the TARDIS fondly. "The TARDIS' matrix operates outside of your usual twelve dimensions, it can see the past and future. Has trouble with tenses," he whispered confidentially.

"What's a TARDIS?" Hermione said. "You mean your blue box?"

"Err, yeah." Professor Smith winced. "It's a spaceship, did I mention...?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione shook their heads.

"Oh, well, it is. It's how I travel, in time and space."

"Of course!" breathed Hermione. "So that explains it! Why you're –"

"So you're basically saying that your blue box sent us messages, warnings about the future?" Tonks asked.

Professor Smith nodded.

"That is so cool!" Tonks grinned. "Wait till I tell dad!"

Professor Smith turned once more to leave. "Okay, if that really is everything, can I go now please?"

"But you're coming back?" Hermione said sharply. "You can't just go running off!"

Professor Smith sighed. "Yes, fine, I'll come back, _mother_," he said grumpily. "I'll just go and visit the zygons, then come straight back."

"Good," Harry nodded, satisfied.

"Good," Professor Smith echoed, and he finally stepped inside the TARDIS. A few seconds later, the box shuddered, and a wheezing, groaning sound began. Slowly, the box began to fade away until nothing remained.

"D'you reckon he'll come back?" Tonks asked.

"Yeah," said Ron. "I trust him."

All four turned and made their way out of the classroom, only to bump into Professor Dumbledore.

"Have any of you seen Professor Smith?" the Headmaster asked. "I've got some rather pressing questions that I would like to ask him."

"You just missed him, sir," Harry said. "He's just left."

"Left?"

"He's gone," Harry shrugged.

"He says he'll be back, though," Hermione said.

Dumbledore sighed. "Well, as long as he's not gone long," he said. "I was rather hoping to talk to him...But as he has departed for the time being, let us return to the magnificent feast in the Great Hall."

As the group made their way back the Hall, Tonks rubbed her temples. She felt a little off balance, a little dizzy.

'_Probably had too many butterbeers earlier; I did lose count!_' she thought blearily. Maybe it was time to go to bed? No, she'd be fine; she could stick it out for another couple of hours.

* * *

**Author note: This was the expostition chapter, where some questions raised during the story were answered, and others were left hanging. I think I've answered all of them, but if I've missed one, just let me know, and I'll put in an explanation in the next chapter. If I don't, then the answer will be in the sequel.  
**

**On another note, only one more chapter to go, and then we're finished! I'll be putting up a notice in the original story in a few days, just to let people who followed it know that this rewrite exists, and that the promised sequel is coming soon. With regards to when the sequel comes out, at this stage it will probably be the 11th of October, a week after the final chapter of this story is published. This date isn't set, though, hopefully it'll be the 8th instead.**

**Replies to reviews:**

**shtoops: Since this is the penultimate chapter of the story, the chances of Jack appearing are less than zero, I'm afraid. And he won't be appearing in the sequel, either. While I agree he is a good character to use in the HP universe, I can't see him fitting into any of my stories.**

**Insanityisgood25: If you don't like cliffhangers, wait till you read the next chapter! It's got the biggest cliffhanger of them all! Regarding your theories: 1) Nope, that's not the case. She's completely, 100% human, and there's no chameleon arch involved either. 2) Nope, but there's nothing stopping her becoming one... 3)Maybe, maybe not, you'll have to wait and see! And remember, her dad is a big sci-fi fan, so she knows a lot from all the movies and tv shows he used to watch.**

**Wonderbee31: Thanks! Hopefully my explanations as to what happened made sense.**

**Haven Wood: Of course! Thanks! Yeah, Tonks is really cool, and I wished we could have seen why she was an auror in the books and the movies...we're only told that she is one, and that's all we ever know. I think the chapter might have felt more rushed because the majority of events in it literally happen in under 45 minutes...things progressed very quickly!**

**Guest x1: The zygons: debatable. In different circumstances, they would have gained the upper hand. It's just lucky they were willing to negotiate! Voldemort: you're right there, he didn't stand a chance! Thanks!**

**TracyFace33: Thanks! Yes, I do agree that I need to put more thoughts in. When I go back and rewrite the rewrite (I'll just edit this story, I won't post another rewrite), that'll be one of my main priorities. While I'm happy with the way this story's turned out, there's still plenty of room for improvement! Thanks!**

**If I don't get any reviews for the first chapter, I won't lie, I do kinda feel disappointed. I shrug it off, though, because I recognise that one chapter isn't really enough for people to judge a story enough to leave a review (unless the first chapter's really long, or really good). I'll just keep posting/writing chapters, because ultimately, it doesn't matter how many people review, just as long as people have the opportunity to read a story that I've written and am proud of.**

**Guest x2: Chapters come every four days, but I'm sad to say that there's only one chapter of this story left!**

**SuOmAlAiNeN92: Maybe, maybe not! But basically, anything that wasn't answered in this chapter will be tied up in the sequel; next chapter will essentially be the conclusion. The events of this chapter should have answered your next question! **

**I would recommend publishing a rewrite only if you are going to introduce a lot of new story elements, while at the same time retaining the same basic plot. If you've just rewritten the story to improve the prose, just update the chapters of the original story.**


	19. Geronimo!

Chapter 18 - Geronimo!

Months passed. Slowly, Hogwarts began to heal from the devastating events it had experienced. New trees were planted in an effort to regrow the Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts' grounds were watered so that grass would once again cover the soil, and the Whomping Willow began to regrow its branches. However, the rubble from the collapsed parts of the school itself could not be cleared until the holidays, and so several out-of-bounds places sprung up all of the castle in an effort to keep the students away from the debris. Filch took to patrolling these sites, and threatened any student who came to have a look with long, painful detentions in the dungeons.

The Ministry, too, had taken an interest in the school's affairs. Dumbledore and the other teachers had had to hand in reports to the Ministry detailing what had happened, and an official inquiry was ordered to investigate how and why the school and its grounds were damaged. As much as Dumbledore regretted doing so, he found himself completing copious amounts of paperwork regarding the deaths of almost a hundred students.

In the future, the month of February in the year of 1996 would be called 'undoubtedly one of the worst in the entire history of Hogwarts.'

Professor Smith's disappearance did not go unnoticed either, and after the euphoria of Voldemort's retreat had died down, the teachers spent several days trying to ascertain his whereabouts before the Ministry found out. Unfortunately, find out they did, and Dumbledore was hit with a heavy fine and threatened with forced removal from the school for hiring a teacher with no credentials or Ministry qualifications on the spot, in addition to letting this 'Doctor John Smith' start a new subject without notifying the Ministry. The furore over this 'mystery teacher' and the events at the school was so great that the Daily Prophet ran the story on the front page for several weeks. Additional fuel was added to the fire with the emergence of an inside story from Rita Skeeter, who claimed to have been abducted and horribly tortured by unknown assailants until being rescued by Bartemius Crouch Junior.

For Harry, Ron and Hermione, though, Professor Smith's extended absence was incredibly disheartening. After all, they had made him promise to return once he had spoken to the zygons. Now, four months later, and with their OWLs only a few days away, it seemed unlikely that he would return. For someone who all three regarded with a huge amount of respect and awe (though Hermione's levels of awe and respect were far lower) to break their word was tantamount to betrayal. They voiced their concerns about this to Tonks, who had been assigned to the school to protect it from any other surprise attacks. True to her blunt nature, the auror had told them all to forget it and move on with their lives, saying that they should expect this kind of thing to happen often in the adult world. After saying this, though, she confided in them that she was just as downhearted as they were. Something about the trio's eccentric science teacher intrigued her, and she was determined to find out what.

Recent events had taken their toll on Tonks as well. After seeing how easily her fellow aurors were subjugated by what Professor Smith had called a zygon hypnosis device, and after many of her colleagues had died as a result of the exploding ship, Tonks had realised just how dangerous an auror's life could be. So much, in fact, that she was beginning to have second thoughts about continuing on in the profession. This surprised and saddened her a lot, as being an auror was all she could remember ever wanting to be. While her mind wanted to remain as an auror, her gut instinct had other ideas, and began, for some inexplicable reason, to take more of an interest in the sort of sciency stuff she'd find in her dad's television shows. She kept these new feelings to herself for the time being, not wanting to bother anyone else with the information, especially as they all had more important things to worry about.

When the long week of OWL exams did arrive, it finally seemed as if school life was back to normal. Then came the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.

Harry had allowed himself to be fooled by Voldemort into thinking that Sirius was being held prisoner deep in the Ministry of Magic. He, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville and Ginny had mounted a failed rescue mission that nearly had them all killed; only the timely intervention of several members of the Order of the Phoenix prevented their demise.

However, the outcome of the battle was far more tragic: Sirius had been killed, murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. The death of someone Harry was coming to regard as a father figure had a profound effect on the young Gryffindor. In the weeks afterwards, he detached himself from his friends, wandering the many corridors of Hogwarts alone, mourning Sirius and kicking himself for walking willfully into Voldemort's trap.

It was on one of Harry's lonely walks that he ran - literally - into something very, very unexpected.

* * *

"Oof!"

Harry rubbed his head and stared at the object he had walked into. For a moment, he couldn't believe it, it was impossible, he had last seen it months ago, he had given up hope! But there it was, standing in the corridor; Professor Smith's blue box.

The door creaked open, and Professor Smith's head popped out.

"Harry!" he cried upon spotting the dumbfounded boy in front of him. "Told you I'd be back! I just popped up to the zygon spaceship, told them that they had the go-ahead to live in the Lake, gave them my screwdriver, had a chat with Zyrath - nice bloke by the way - then came straight back." He beamed happily.

"Y-y-you're back!" Harry stuttered.

"I agree," Professor Smith said, beginning to frown. Harry was behaving oddly, had something gone wrong?

Harry suddenly scowled. "You came back...after four months!" he practically shouted, all the suppressed emotion of Sirius' death bursting out of him. "When you said you'd come back, we thought you'd be back in a couple of hours, a couple of days at the most, but instead it's four whole months!"

Professor Smith winced. "Sorry," he whispered guiltily. "I didn't mean..." He trailed off. What more could he say?

Harry took several deep, calming breaths. "Have you any idea what's happened since you left?" he said miserably. "What happened at the Ministry, how I was so stupid, how Sirius died..." At this, his resolve broke, and he dissolved into tears.

"Err, I'm sorry, I suppose," Professor Smith said, thoroughly confused. What had happened at the Ministry? Who was this 'Serious' person? He'd obviously been someone of great importance to Harry.

"It's my fault that he died, and I hate myself for it," Harry admitted, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes. "If I had the chance to get away from it all, I'd take it."

An idea sprang into Professor Smith's mind. "Well," he said slowly. "You could always come with me."

Harry looked up, eyes wide and hopeful. "Really?" he said. "I'd love to!" He opened his mouth, ready to say 'let's go', but he suddenly thought of Ron and Hermione. He couldn't go with Professor Smith without them coming either, could he? They deserved this as much as he did, after all, they had both been severely injured at the Ministry and would also relish the opportunity to escape from everything as well.

He bit his lip. "Can Ron and Hermione come too, Professor?" he asked hopefully. "They've...been under a lot of stress too, and I think they deserve a break too."

Professor Smith grinned. "The more the merrier!" he said happily. "Let's go and get them, shall we?"

* * *

Ron and Hermione had been visiting Hagrid regularly since Voldemort's surprise attack, and he had been a great source of advice for dealing with the emotional effects of the aygon invasion. Today, however, they had confided in Hagrid their feelings about Harry's current behaviour, how he had been distant from them, and that they wished he would let them comfort him. Hagrid had nodded understandingly, saying that he knew from experience that Harry was very upset and wanted to be alone, but would eventually become more open again. As such, they left his hut feeling a great deal more cheerful than when they had entered it.

As they made their way back up to the castle, they detected a faint, wheezing, groaning sound. Recognising it immediately, Hermione turned to Ron in surprise.

"Ron, did you hear that?" she asked. "That's the sound Professor Smith's box - the TARDIS makes! He's coming back!"

"About bloody time," Ron snorted, looking around for the source of the noise. "Where's the thing going to apparate, though?"

He was answered almost immediately as the landscape around him and Hermione began to blur into an entirely different appearance. The two students watched, open mouthed, as a large, gleaming room materialised around them. Professor Smith and Harry were standing on a raised glass platform, just in front of a hexagonal console, with a large cylinder stretching connecting it and the roof. Several flights of stairs branched off from the platform, giving the impression that the room they were in was only a small part of a larger building.

"Hey, I know this place!" Ron said, looking up at Professor Smith. "This is your blue box!"

"Correct, Mister Weasley!" Professor Smith called. "You're inside the TARDIS once more."

"Wow, it's just like Ron said!" Hermione breathed. "You've put an undetectable extension charm on it!"

Professor Smith frowned. "No, don't be silly! Undetectable extension charms are finite. Transdimensional engineering is infinite!" he said proudly.

"B-but infinite space is impossible!" Hermione protested. "It goes against ever principle of magic!"

"It's not magic, it's science!" Professor Smith corrected. "I'll explain later if you want," he added, seeing Hermione's confused expression.

Ron walked up the stairs leading to the platform.

"You came back," he said sharply. "Why?"

Professor Smith looked down at his shoes in embarrassment. "I, err, overshot," he said guiltily. "I meant to return a few hours later. But, as an apology, I've offered all three of you a place onboard!"

"So?" Ron asked, unimpressed, as Hermione slowly made her way up the stairs, only for her eyes to almost fall out of her head upon spotting the console in front of her.

"Professor Smith says he'll take us with him," Harry explained. "To wherever we want to go, as a chance to get away from everything for a bit."

Ron's eyes brightened, and he looked hopeful. "Yeah?" he said. "Great! God knows we need a break!"

"Hermione, you wanna come too?"

"Mmhmm," Hermione said absently, still engrossed with the console. She reached out to pull a lever, but Professor Smith quickly slapped her hand away.

"Don't touch the helmic regulator!" he said hurriedly. "Who know's where we'll end up!"

"But this place is so amazing!" Hermione said. "What does all of this do?"

Professor Smith grinned. "Timey-wimey stuff," he said. "But you haven't seen anything yet. You haven't even found the library!"

Hermione nearly fainted.

"I think that's a 'yes' from all of us, Professor," Harry said, looking at his bushy-haired friend as she streadied herself against the handrail.

"Off we go, then!" Professor Smith cried, and he pulled a lever. Immediately, the room shuddered, and the familiar wheezing, groaning sound began.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all grabbed hold of the console for support as Professor Smith ran around it, pulling levers and flicking switches.

"What's happening?" asked Hermione.

"We're dematerialising," Professor Smith explained. "The TARDIS is entering the time vortex!"

"Where are we going?" asked Ron.

"I don't know!" Professor Smith laughed.

"When are we going?" said Harry.

"I don't know!" Professor Smith said again, imitating the trio by grabbing hold of the console. "But I do know one thing!"

"What's that?" the trio asked at the same time.

Professor Smith grinned. "Geronimo!" he shouted, as the TARDIS hurtled through the time vortex, transporting its occupants to their next adventure.

* * *

A thousand miles away, on a large, rocky outcrop in the middle of the North Sea, the Doctor sat impatiently in his past self's cell in Azkaban, waiting for the TARDIS to arrive. When at last the blessed wheezing, groaning sound could be heard, he stood up and dusted himself off.

No sooner had the TARDIS fully materialised then he pushed open the doors and walked in.

"You took your time," he noted drily.

"Had to drop Clara off," replied a woman. "She made me stay and eat one of her souffles."

The Doctor snorted. "Where'd she get the milk?" he joked.

"Hmm?"

"Never mind, dear, I'll tell you later," the Doctor said absently, and he flicked a couple of switches on the console.

The woman crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.  
"You know," she said quietly. "It's almost a year since you found me. Do you remember?"

The Doctor smiled reminiscently. "I remember it well, dear, I remember it well."

**The End**

* * *

**The Doctor will return in Harry Potter and the Witch's Secret**

* * *

**Author Note: And, to lead into the sequel, I give you the biggest cliffhanger of the story!**

**I'd like to thank everyone who favourited, followed and reviewed the story over the past few months. These gestures of appreciatiation are, err, much appreciated!**

**JSmith25**

**Edit: The sequel has now been published. It can be found on my profile or on the Doctor Who/Harry Potter crossover page.  
**

* * *

**Replies to reviews:**  
**Haven Wood: Thanks! That question will be answered in the sequel, and there's a very simple explanation for it!**

**Insanityisgood25: Thanks! Hehe, good! Don't worry, though, everything will clear up in the sequel!**

**Wonderbee31: The wait is almost over!**

**TracyFace33: Yes. Basically, the Doctor scanned Tonks with the screwdriver, Tonks snatched it from him, then kept it for several days, only to eventually give it back after Voldemort ran away. The Doctor then went to the zygon spaceship and left it there. The zygons then gave it to the past Doctor when he vortex manipulatored there just before the ship exploded. In other words, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey! Thanks! No problem.**

**CybeleSummon: The sequel will be published sometime between now and the 11th. Thanks, and I hope you will enjoy the sequel!**

** 87: It seems everyone wants to know what the deal is with Tonks! I can't for the life of me figure out why! :p Don't worry, all the dangling plot threads regarding Tonks will be tied up in the sequel.**

**SuOmAlAiNen92: Yes, I totally agree! Thanks! My intention is that, apart from this story and the sequel, the plot of the Harry Potter books still takes place, with inly a few minor alterations, obviously. Regarding Tonks, well, you'll have to wait and see!**

**Yes, I have read your sequel and I think you should leave it as a separate story; the first has a definite end that you would have to change if you were to merge the two together. Both stories are very good too, I might add. Well done!**


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